This file is a part of Elf Sternberg's Collected Works on ASSTR.  The
complete archive of Elf's work can be found on his website at:

http://www.drizzle.com/~elf

The author can be contacted at:

mailto:elf@drizzle.com

  ----------------------------------------------------------------------

                           Contrasting Opinions

Journal Entry 224 / 01028

Seren, Narquel 13, 01028

The alarm went off. Wailing like a banshee, it demanded Nickolai's
attention from the very first scream. He crawled along the length of the
bed, fumbled in the darkness for the gap between the bed and the dresser,
and slammed his hand down hard on the disable button. "Twenty minutes,
Nix," he growled softly before crawling into bed.

Furry stirred beside him. "Another day," she sighed, not looking up from
her pillow.

"Another fine day," Nickolai agreed, cuddling closer to her. "How're you?"

"Fine," she murmured. He wrapped an arm around her and held her close;
she stroked his bare arm with her fingertips. "Feeling good?" she asked.

"I could be," he said, his erection already poking her buttocks. "How
about you?"

"Let me think about it," she murmured. "I might want to use this time
to get sleep."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Hmmm " She sighed, wiggling her butt back against his hips. "No, not
so sure. Convince me otherwise?."

Nickolai grinned in the dark. He kissed the back of her neck, nuzzling the
soft fur that tufted over that one spot where the neck and back seemed
to join together. He nipped her there, softly, making her shiver. She
liked to shiver, he knew, and he loved that he could cause it so easily,
at least in the morning. It seemed to wear off as the day went along,
although he could tickle it out of her with nightfall once more. She
shivered again and squirmed against him. "Kolya " she moaned plaintively.

His hands caressed the fur along her chest and belly, finding the hidden
nipples under the fur of her flat chest. His fingers slipped down between
her thighs to touch her lower lips; her hand covered his as if to guide
it between those lips. He knew where he was going, but her touch thrilled
him. "I love you, Furry," he whispered.

"I love you, Kolya!" she whispered back. "Please fuck me?"

"You don't even have to say please," he said, cuddling up behind her,
finding his way in the dark to her cunt from behind. She bent her legs
inwards just a little, exposing her secret places more to him, and he
slid easily into the waiting wetness of her sex. The feel of their two
bodies merging each greeted with their own groan of pleasure, Nickolai's
shaped into that single word, "Yes "

He held onto her hip with his one free arm and slowly the two of them
rocked back and forth. Nickolai nibbled softly on an offered ear. Furry
stroked his arm gently with one hand, the other also between her thighs,
stroking at her clitoris while his cock eased in and out of her, massaging
her insides, awakening her to the day. She moaned softly as first one
and then another climax rolled through her-- moderate things not meant
to shake the Earth, but reassuring to her that her world, Nickolai,
was still there.

Nickolai didn't exert too much energy. He could feel Furry's pleasures
running between them, hear her moans as she reached her second orgasm. He
felt so strong, so capable, when she came like this, with him inside her,
and when he came it was a release that came with little more than one
last gentle moan.

He cuddled her close, feeling his shrinking cock sliding out of her.
"Thank you, Furry," he said, kissing her neck once more.

"You're very welcome, my love," she said, turning around, turning him
down to the bed, kissing him gently. "I'll never get tired of wakeups
like that," she giggled, kissing his face. "Ready for the day?"

"Better now than I was before the alarm went off."

"Good. Let's get going. Mom and Dad are probably already up and going."

  ----------------------------------------------------------------------

Morrail was already halfway through his second cup of coffee when his
beloved daughter and well-chosen husband (at least in both Morrail's and
Helena's opinions) showed up at the command center tent. "Good morning,
lovebirds," Morrail chuckled.

"Good morning, Father," Furry said, giving him a gentle buff on his
cheekfur. "Any changes through the night?"

"None, I'm pleased to say," Morrail responded. "Helena is packing a heavy
shuttle for a lift to the South. Chatenni has called to report that he has
found the ruins of a city and, like all archeologists in his position,
has no idea where to begin." Nickolai nodded. Ritacha was becoming a
peculiar dig all on its own, with its own difficulties. There were a
great number of places that were sealed and protected; simple exposure
could convert much of this world's paper documentation to dust or pulp
in mere seconds.  They had to be careful with each room. It was not by
any stretch of the imagination an easy task.

"Well, it's time we got on with the day," Morrail sighed. "Where's the
rest of my staff?"

There were over a dozen major digs going on all over Ritacha, and as
the senior organizer of the dig, it was Morrail's task to be aware of
the status of all of them. It wasn't his favorite task, but it was one
he did rather well. Slowly the team representatives from each major
dig site either filtered in or registered their presence on one of the
monitors overhead. "Let's start. Site: The University of Besnial."

A rather tall and rangy-looking Mephit stood. "The University Project
is proceeding well. We have completed work on the preservation of the
library, although it's estimated that only half of what was there will
ultimately be recoverable. In other places we have discovered that the
artist whose works line the auditorium was highly regarded as a minor
master of sorts and it appears that much of his work will be recoverable.
We have also recovered a treasure trove of fiction, mostly in the student
dormrooms; with their cinderblock construction and small windows they
did an excellent job of keeping the elements out. I can't help bit
wonder what the construction did for the psyches of the students." He
spread his hands out wide, apologetically. "There isn't that much to
report otherwise; we're taking the university slowly and seriously;
a school of this size represents such a treasure trove of information
that we think it better if we catalog everything first and go through
the process of preservation. We want to be able to continue analysis
even after the terraformers get here."

Morrail nodded. It was the tack he had recommended himself, although he
wasn't very happy with the pace that the University team had managed. Nix
himself had defended the team on the grounds that the school was a huge
place and that the minutiae involved in sorting and cataloging it all were
orders of magnitude different from the usual ancient civilization dig.
Morrail supposed so, but still it bothered him. He wanted it to go faster,
to provide all the answers. He wondered if he was getting old. He almost
didn't notice that Captain Omon had taken the floor and began discussing
the dig at Rico Kith. He listened intently to the report, knowing that
eventually he would have to make decisions based on the information
distributed here. Sure, it would be in their individual reports, and
Nix could always play back the entire meeting, but he had no desire to
go through with this all again. He had just one life to live, eternal
as it was, and he preferred to do the drudgery but once and enjoy the
pleasures life had to offer twice, at least.

The dig at Kimmonowal intrigued him most of all. When Co gave his
presentation, he confirmed what a few documents at Besnial had covered:
Kimmonowal was the first and primary installation of Heeram. They had
found Tream relatively easily and now they had the other AI. Nobody
in the entire mission imagined that that place had been Heeram's only
information centre, but it was probably a good place to start.

The rest of the team reported in on their own. He listened to each. The
dig at the city of Genra, Chatenni's assignment, had proven to be more
exciting than anyone had realised. There had been a third technological
culture there, one that had tried to vie with the Tsuguran and Theban
States. There wasn't even a name for the people there yet. The report
wasn't very in-depth, but it did reveal that the primary hypothesis
working at this time inside Chatenni's group was that they had been
relatively lightly hit during the first war and had instead drowned
in a lack of resources after the war. This had led to their own
internal downfall. Although it was clear that they had had the kinds of
technology evident in the other two technological cultures, its use was
neither widespread nor intensive, suggesting a nation caught deep in the
self-destructive game of catch-up. Roger, Nickolai's Pamthreat friend, had
contributed to the bulk of the working hypothesis thread of the report.

After the reports were in, Morrail closed the meeting with his usual
thank-yous. Things were progressing along well, but it was hard
to determine what at this time constituted a break-through. Language
wasn't a barrier here; there was so much of it, including dictionaries,
that cracking it had become a matter of routine. The Theban language
was proving no more difficult than the Tsuguran; it seemed that they
were both intensely interested in one another, a factor not unusual in a
people at war, and had left behind a great many examples of translations
of each others' works.

Nickolai already read the Tsugran script with some fluency, an amazing
skill that had appeared out of nowhere, one which Morrail appreciated
greatly even as he ordered Nix to check Nickolai's urine for dangerous
nootropics. None were found. Still, Morrail wondered if Nickolai
had always had this ability to learn languages or if this was just
something that had clicked into place with later life and the growth
of new pathways. Morrail had joked to Helena that if that was the case
there was hope for himself yet.

Helena had just smiled and continued packing, preparing for their
independent trip out to a small city found on the opposite northern
continent, a place that was not generally believed to have had a very
high technological level. Still, with the kind of imperial pattern that
had evidenced itself on both Terra and early llerkin, there was no reason
to suspect that the resources of this relatively undeveloped land had not
gone unexploited by the wealthier nations, and where there were exploitive
efforts there would also be cities developing. Morrail hoped that the
environment was more to his suitability. He had labelled this trip a
'vacation' of sorts, a time away from the rest of the team when he and
Helena could practice their art of independent exploration without feeling
like the rest of the team was constantly waiting for their decisions.

Morrail sighed and deliberately closed down his uPADD; he had no intention
of taking this reminder of work with him on the shuttlecraft. He grinned
as he left it behind on the table. He wasn't being fair to himself or the
mission. He truly loved his job; if he didn't he would go do something
else. It was just that the number of people who were qualified to do
what he did continued to grow even as the number of places to explore
continued to shrink. And so competition for good sites was becoming
more and more fierce each and every year. He had to smile and admit
to himself that, at least this year, a new adventure had shaped up and
a whole new world with layers upon layers of history had opened up to
the explorers. Ritacha would be a resource for the next five centuries
of archaeologists, historians, and anthropologists. Not to mention art
critics and book translators.

"Nix, are we ready?"

"Helena indicates that the shuttlecraft is fully loaded and ready to go.
Enjoy your trip, Morrail. I expect to see you back in a few days, fit
and ready for action."

"Am I ever not fit and ready for action?"

"I am not one to judge that," Nix replied. "I merely report on the state
of the mission and hope that your vacation will contribute to its proper
functioning."

"Uh-huh," Morrail grunted. He pulled on his coat and pulled the atmosphere
hood over his head. The forward plastic formed itself into a clear sheet
so as not to distort his view, and he walked over to the shuttlecraft. The
rear airlock allowed him in easily and he made his way forwards, finding
Helena waiting in the pilot's chair. "Nice place," he commented.

"The 454 is the most common shuttlecraft in the galaxy," she said
with a smile. "I am just pleased to have one at my disposal. Now sit,
Morrail. We have a short flight ahead of us."

"How short?"

"Two hours or so," she commented. "Not even enough time to get
comfortable. And all of it will have to be strapped in. Safety, my love."

Morrail nodded, taking the left seat in the two-person 'cabin,' a space
open to the entire rear of the ship. He settled back into the chair and
watched as Helena easily took the ship up on a hyperbolic arc that would
allow Ritacha to turn underneath them. They would end up in the city of
Tareen in a matter of hours.

As long as Morrail could remember, Helena had been a competent and careful
pilot. He couldn't remember her ever flying in anything other than the
manner of a school bus driver. He knew about the restless animal that
lived underneath that teacherly exterior. He hoped to see her sometime
during this vacation. Maybe tonight.

"I'm ready to land," she mentioned to him.

"Already?" he asked.

"What do you mean, 'already?' It has been nearly two hours since we
took off. Yes, already I am preparing to land, Morrail. Are you still
strapped in?"

"I never took off the belt," he said. "You see what a good passenger
I am?"

"Some good passenger. You are also supposed to stay awake and talk to
me so that I do not fall asleep."

"Isn't that what Nix is for?" he asked with a smile.

She grinned and replied, "Nix is not so exciting as you, my love. Now give
me a moment to put this thing down. I believe I have found the airport."

Indeed, with the tower in the distance and the widely separated buildings,
this sparse tract of land did indeed appear to be the airport they had
predicted it to be. There was little left; apparently those who had
built this place had had little interest in keeping it long. Most of the
buildings were little more than foundations and stacks of rubble. "Maybe
it was bombed in one of the wars. Or a civil action afterwards."

"Perhaps," Morrail muttered. "We could go take sensor samples and see."

"The radiation outside is not bad," Helena muttered. "Although we'll
still want helmets, this close to the equator it is almost balmy
outside. Twelve centigrade."

"Lovely," Morrail muttered. "Let's do a survey."

The city was, indeed, a desolate place. Many of the taller buildings
still survived, at least partially, the heavy mass of their steel and
concrete construction giving them longevity. "I bet those buildings
represent the imperial masters or their local lackeys," Morrail said,
pointing to them on a map. "This one looks especially heavily guarded. Do
you see the construction?"

"It is like a compound," she said. "Look how these overflight photos
reveal windows towards the inner courtyard, yet only small windows on
the outside. This could be some kind of foreign office for either the
Tsugurans or Thebans, or perhaps another party of which we are not aware.
It would appear they were very concerned with light missile attacks."

"It also suggests that there is a lot to be found there."

"You want to go?" Helena asked, knowing the answer already.

With medium jackets, breathing masks and eyecovers, they walked out
the back airlock of the ship, immediately joined by two seccor drones,
dinosaur "D" models, which looked vaguely like Tyrannosaurus Rex but had
much heavier heads in which to pack lights, weapons, sensors, and so on.
Morrail and Helena made their way through the dust-covered town. It had
not seen snow in some time; already nuclear winter had retreated from
the equatorial region, although the arctic cold which had gripped all
of Ritacha still filtered down through the winds to chill this land. It
had also probably not seen rain. There was a thick layer of yellow
dust on everything as they made their way down streets. Morrail had his
precision camera in place. Even though the drones would record everything,
he always kept a camera with him to record exactly what he would think
was interesting. He knew that in the end the tapes the drones had made
would be gone over second by second until everything had been digested,
but he had his own reasons for keeping his own record. "That building,
Morrail.  Do you see it?"

It appeared to be still intact. A heavy building that, from the outside,
appeared to be almost featureless but for a door just wide enough for
two Ritans. Stairs led up to the door, and a sign hung on the archway
over the stairs. "Nix?"

"Tsuguran, Morrail. It reads, 'Embassy of Tsugura.'"

"You were precisely right, Helena."

"And I have been wrong when?" she asked with a grin. "Many times, my love.
Come on, let us see what wonders await us within."

Bones of several combatants, killed it what appeared to be some sort of
gun battle, littered the entranceway. Morrail found the site profoundly
saddening, that in the grip of self- destruction on a planetary scale
these people had chosen a more personal, pointless battle to fight. He
shook his head and walked past them.

There were dozens of offices, each with its own marker, each familiar in
its own way. They identified rooms for commerce, travel, immigration;
offices for high officials; security systems and procedural traps. At
one point, they came across a vault and Helena marked it as something
to be checked later, in a controlled-atmosphere systemic setting.

"Another house full of treasures," Morrail grinned. "I am overwhelmed
by where to start."

"Let us leave that to the students."

"No," Morrail said. "I do want to check out one place. The high
ambassador's office. Let us look in on what kind of mel he was like."

"Are you sure it was a 'he'?" Helena asked, teasingly. She knew perfectly
well that this culture, not unlike others, was male-dominated and that
a fem in such an office was unlikely. Possible, if she read the data
correctly from the University dig site, but not at all probable.

They entered the office and looked around. It was indeed the kind
of space a male would keep. The environment radiated a kind of cold
control; this was not the office of someone who had friends. He had useful
acquaintances. "The name reads Tekop Sedui, high ambassador to the nation
of Sraudit from Tsugura." There is a date on that plaque. It suggests
a pre-first-war office. Apparently there was no trade with these people
following the first war. Maybe there was nobody here after the first war."

"Morbid," Helena agreed. "But unlikely. I predict there were survivors.
The Tsugurans were too concerned with Tream and the Thebans, still,
to have done much about it. If they ever visited here, it was simply
as reconnaissance."

Morrail nodded. He examined the office in detail. Much of the paper was
actually still in good shape, which pleased him. He opened several drawers
of files and examined the contents briefly. The pages were brittle but not
immediately disintegrating. He hoped they would last long enough for some
students to get down here and start taking them apart. An ambassador's
suite could tell them a lot about the world before the first nuclear war,
the limited one that had sent their society back to a primitive state
that the Forcassans had worked to repair, rebuild, and restore to some
semblance of civilisation. And they had succeeded. Unfortunately, it
also appeared as if they had brought with them the very tools of their
ultimate destruction. Morrail shook his head. All those souls, wasted;
all that life, gone.

Helena picked up on his mood. "It is depressing, Morrail. I do
understand."

He grinned. "My face shows it?"

"Eh," she agreed. "And very clearly, husband. You do not return poor
papers well, either."

He smiled at her. "My students complain?"

"A little. I hear it. It is no big deal," she replied with a grin. "There
are history books here on the shelf that Nix says they do not have
at the University. They should be catalogued and put into the general
circulation. And then they should be imaged."

Morrail smiled. Document imaging and restoration was his and Helena's
prime skill as a team. Together they could coax the words out of documents
thousands of years old. It was something he loved to do, to make the
invisible visible and to make the past speak its name aloud. "We will
need students to move the material back to the main lab where the NI
scope is located."

"I have already arranged for four junior students to do a safety move,"
she said. "They will be here tomorrow."

"So much for a vacation," Morrail grunted.

"I thought you wanted to do what you enjoyed, Morrail. We will not be
asked into meetings for many weeks of these documents prove as useful
as we think. That should make you happy!"

He laughed. "Yes, I suppose it does, Helena."

In what appeared to be the residential wing of the embassy they also found
the remains of the library. Again, like the Ambassador's quarters, there
were a number of books that were not in the dig catalogue of records
and would have to be added by hand. It would take days to get all of
this stuff back to the main lab.

By the end of the day, Morrail had seen more documents than he believed
he could read in his immortal life. He was glad that he wasn't going
to be one of those who would have to go over them and actually read the
histories complete; he would get digested versions from his students even
as he and Helena produced more and more pages for them to read, collate,
and opine upon. Exhausted, he and Helena tromped back to the shuttlecraft.

"I am taking a shower," she announced. "Would you like to join me?"

"In that tiny closet?" he asked. "Sure, why not?"

They stripped down to fur and she got into the shower ahead of him,
dialling up a temperature she knew they both enjoyed, hot and steamy.

Morrail felt his blood run a little quicker at the sight of her naked
body, even with the water streaming down her fur. The phrase, 'like a
wet rat,' meant something entirely different to those of his species,
who appreciated the sight of their own more than anyone else. He pushed
up against her in the shower and enjoyed the feeling of her wide hips
and lightly furred tail. "You feel wonderful," she sighed.

"I hope I do." He lowered his muzzle to one of her ears and whispered,
"I do not feel like being gentle tonight."

He could feel his words course through her even as she tensed up. "What
would you do to me?" she asked, softly.

"Whatever I like," he growled. "Horrible things I have not done to you
in a long time."

"I have not forgotten," she said, her voice taking on a tinge of fear.

"I think you have." He grabbed a bottle of soap from the rack just outside
the shower and spread some on his paws. He pushed the soap into her fur,
washing her down to the hide, roughly manhandling her body as he washed
away the day's exertions. He did himself at the same time, taking care
not to play too much with his own hardened cock. He was excited as it
was. "I think you need a reminder," he said as his hand trailed between
her legs and began pinching at her labia.

"What do I need to be reminded of?"

"Of the pleasures you feel when I am cruel to you, Helena."

"Are you ever cruel to me?" she asked.

He pinched her outer lip hard and she cried out in pain. "Am I cruel to
you now?" he asked.

"Yes," she gasped. "Please, Morrail, not too cruel."

"I will do what I like," he said, turning off the water after he had
finished rinsing the two of them. He turned on the fans and positioned
her in front of one of the blowers, guiding her with his hands on her
shoulders. She did not struggle but stood meekly by as he dried her off,
allowing one of the blowers behind and to his left to dry him off at the
same time. It took several minutes, but soon he was leading Helena by the
scruff of the next to the soft platform bed mounted in the back of the
shuttlecraft. It was large enough for the two of them. "Kneel," he said.
"On the floor. Right there."

Helena nodded and sank slowly to her knees. There was something in her
demeanor that Morrail enjoyed-- was it anticipation, or dread, that
seemed to radiate off every stand of fur on her beautiful body? He could
not tell, and perhaps it was really a bit of both. "Suck," he said.

"I-- I-- am not good at... "

"Do it," he said, pulling her head towards his cock with one hand behind
her ears. "Now."

She nodded and opened her mouth in anticipation. He pulled her down over
his cock, feeling the warmth of her mouth surround his erection. She
actually was rather good at giving head, but not when he was directing
her like this. He held her ears and forced her down onto his shaft,
choking her with it. "Bite me or get sick, and you will really regret it,"
he growled. "Suck well. Keep your hands at your sides."

She did her best. He smiled as he watched her try to take all of him,
even as he resisted forcing himself down her throat. He wasn't that big,
but her muzzle was short even for a Markal's and together he could at
least awaken her gag reflex. He also wasn't giving her much of a chance
to overcome it, either.

"Up," he said, reaching for the web of skin at her armpit and pinching it,
twisting it, making her yelp in protest even as he shoved her onto the
bed. "Face down," he said. She lay down flat on the bed. "No," he said,
grabbing her hips and pulling her upwards. "Kneel. Face down."

"Morrail " She gasped.

"Quiet," he demanded. She fell silent, although he knew that wouldn't
last for long. "You are quite lovely," he said as he reached out and began
teasing her labia again, parting them with his fingers, sliding a finger
inside her, stroking it gently against her cervix. He was careful with
that, though; depending on how hard he did it, he could invoke pleasure,
pain, or even nausea, and the last was very definitely something to avoid.
He did bear down with two fingers against the upper wall of her pelvic
bone, making her gasp in something that wasn't quite pleasure. "I want
you to know what kind of lover I can be," he said as he pinched her labia
with the other hand, using almost bruising strength on her. He moved
his hand over her mound, pinching here, tweaking there. She squirmed,
trying to avoid his grasp, but that only made his successes even more
painful. She cried out as his hand roamed her inner thighs, his cruel
pinches becoming even moreso. And yet he could feel her cunt getting
ever more wet as he manipulated her, hurt her. She moaned against the
bed and he thought the time was right.

He got between her legs, kicking them apart with his knees, dropping her
hips down a little further than she had been just kneeling on the bed. He
grabbed the bottle of sex slip from the floor and coated his cock with it.
"You have been good, Helena. I am going to give you a gift."

"A gift?" she moaned, lifting her head.

"Yes," he said. "I am going to fuck your ass."

"No, Morrail, no, please, no " she begged. That only made him more
excited as he pressed his cock against her opening. "Morrail, please,
you promised "

He ignored her protests as he pressed. She fought back against him,
tightening her opening, trying to keep him from getting in, but he
pressed hard and she couldn't hold him back. His cock plunged into
her tiny asshole, ripping a scream from her even as his hips met her
ass. The sensation inside her was amazingly tight and hot, and he
loved the resistance as her body fought against this painful, unfair
invasion. He withdrew only halfway before lunging back into her. "Oh,
fah, oh, fah " her voice gurgled in semi-coherence as he fucked her
asshole, giving her everything she had asked for even as his own climax
built within him. He could feel her body jolt underneath him as she came,
her voice thick with lust and pain even as he continued his violation of
her precious asshole, his cock thrusting deep into her guts. Her screams
were a blend of pleasure and objection, and his own voice joined hers as
his pleasure ripped through him and he seared her insides with his semen,
jamming his cock down to the base and filling her to the very end.

He withdrew from her and wiped himself off on a towel he had left next
to the bed with the other toys. She lay on the bed, quivering. "Ohhhh,
fahhh " she repeated over and over as what appeared to be a kind of
seizure slowly eased down within her.

He lay beside her and held her close, wrapping one arm over her shoulders.
"Helena?" he said.

There was no response for a minute, but soon she lifted her head. "I am
still here, Morrail."

He kissed her. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," she said with a smile. "Thank you."

"I still don't see what you get out of that," he said. "But I'm glad
you enjoy it."

"The same as you," she said. "A good fucking and the best orgasms. Now,
I am exhausted."

"I was tired before we even got into the shower," he murmured.

She turned around and faced him. "Morrail, does doing that bother
you still?"

"No, not anymore. It did once, when you first asked it of me."

"You do it so rarely," she said.

"I don't want to spoil it by making it commonplace. If you wait long
enough that you begin to miss it, then I will not have to escalate it
too quickly." He reached out with one hand and stroked her inner thigh,
running his fingers over the bruises he could already feel swelling
under her fur. She squirmed, moaning softly. "I should stop. You'll
get excited."

"Yes," she replied. "And I am too tired to go through that again."

"I'm too tired to go through that again, too." He kissed her and held
her close. "I love you, Helena."

"And I have always loved you, Morrail. Do not ever forget that."

"I do not think we could play those games if we ever forgot that, Helena."
He kissed her nose. "Goodnight, my love."

"And to you, my beloved husband, who gives me such gifts."

  ----------------------------------------------------------------------


Original document is available from:
http://www.drizzle.com/~elf/journals

The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., and Related Tales
are Copyright (c) 1989-2000 Elf Mathieu Sternberg. Distribution limited
to electronic media not-for-profit use only. All other rights are reserved
to the author.
