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     OFFICE JOB 
     
     by Lachlan MacQuarrie 
     
    
   
   
    
     It was the inconsistency 
     
     of it that rankled him. 
     
    

    
     (he expected battle to be 
     
     glorious or horrendOus, 
     
     depending on who brought 
     
     you up. Jake quite be— 
     
     lieved it was going to be 
     
     a horrendous mess of 
     
     slaughter and fire, as 
     
     his father had told him of 
     
     his war. But this quiet 
     
     SEE—conditioned room, full 
     
     of blinding lights and 
     
     soft voices was not war 
     
     at all — it was just an 
     
     office job. 
     
    

    
     Why couldn't war be like 
     
     the descriptions, he thought. 
     
     At least we would be 
     
     prepared for it. Expecting 
     
     excitement, I almost fell 
     
     asleep during our first 
     
     engagement! Why not? After 
     
     all, all one does is line 
     
     up those lines on the 
     
     screen, and press the blue 
     
     button when the Commander 
     
     says, and then the dot 
     
     disappears. 
     
    

    
     "My commander says I've 
     
     just killed three thousand 
     
     people, but I might as well 
     
     be having afternoon tea for 
     
     all that is happening in 
     
     this control room. I 
     
     wonder if the enemy Weapons 
     
     Officer (if there is an 
     
     enemy, a qUestion' ‘03 which 
     
     I have no proof one way or 
     
     another) thought the same 
     
     before the dot of his ship 
     
     disappeared from my screen. 
     
     I've never seen the enemy, 
     
     I wonder what they look 
     
     like," he mused. 
     
    

    
     That's interesting. That 
     
     little dial is over into 
     
     the red. I wonder what it 
     
     sig. . . . . . 
     
    
   
   
    
     And in the flash of energy 
     
     he was no more. 
     
    
   
   
    
     TAG! Y‘OU'RE lT " 
     
    
   
   
    
     by  Madguarrie 
     
    
   
   
    
     I flicked on the com- 
     
     screen and answered the , 
     
     alien“ spaceship's challenge 
     
     in my heavily-accented 
     
     Verrokhan, "'lhis is the 
     
     lIlerran Space Forces , 
     
     battlecruiser Firy and 
     
     we're going to blow you 
     
     mothers out of the sky!" 
     
    

    
     The Verrokh canmander 
     
     did a pretty good job of 
     
     spluttering (considering 
     
     his lack of a loner 
     
     mandible or tongue as we 
     
     know it) in amazement. ' 
     
     "That's impossible! We 
     
     exterminated the. . . . " 
     
    

    
     " . . .Terrans three 
     
     hundred years ago" I 
     
     finished for him. "In 
     
     the thousand years of the 
     
     Verrd<h Empire, your 
     
     lords made only one 
     
     mistake. They ordered 
     
     the attack on Mother 
     
     Terra, and on the human 
     
     race. And now we're coming 
     
     to kill you!" 
     
    

    
     I snapped off the com- 
     
     screen and relayed word 
     
     of the contact to HQ. The 
     
     destruction of the Verrokh 
     
     Fleet took seventeen 
     
     sewnds. 
     
    

    
     The bombardment of the 
     
     Verrokh planets took three 
     
     days. We completely ' 
     
     exterminated the vermin. 
     
    

    
     Funny, that's what the 
     
     captured Verrokh reports of 
     
     the attack on the human 
     
     race three hundred years 
     
     ago say. . . x 
     
    

    
     U 
     
    
   
   
    
     / 
     
    
   
   
    
        
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
     c/ry . 
     
     nae/:7 + 
     
    
   
   
    
     FLOWERS FOR ALL OCCASIONS 
     
    
   
   
    
     "Say it with Flowers 
     
     Say it with Oars" V . 
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
     62 Grafton St. 
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
     CORSAGES, GREEN PLANTS, 
     
     FLORAL ARRANGEMENTS, DRIED 
     
     AND SILK ARRANGEMENTS 
     
    
   
   
    
     CIaUde & Beryl- Field}- 
     
    
   
   
    
     Phone: 892-4588 
     
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     u . 
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
     THE Urinsuu,~ Thursday, November ‘2"2,'“‘197~9'§"Vpage 3 
     
    
   
   
    
     I LITERARY 
     
    
   
   
    
     POEMS BY DIXIE LEE MacDOHALD' 
     
    
   
   
    
     Narcissus spoke to me 
     
    

    
     when I opened the closet one day, I 
     
     he was sitting in my shabby shoes, , 
     
     and muttering, sputtering, 
     
    

    
     I closed the door. , 
     
    

    
     Werse was when he followed me 
     
    

    
     to school one day, between the pages 
     
    

    
     of my math, he laughed at my studied. 
     
     lines of brow and how I fooled him, 
     
    

    
     he thinks he got to me, but I 
     
    

    
     'I hate him. ~ 
     
    
   
   
    
     Mothers rock your_babies 
     
    

    
     croon and swing them high 
     
    

    
     wrap them round your bodies 
     
    

    
     when they chance to cry. 
     
    

    
     Mothers dance your darlings 
     
    

    
     lift them to the sky. I 
     
    

    
     Tell them of God and great things 
     
     before you tuck them beddy-bye ‘ 
     
     ’cus time ista terrible teacher, 
     
    

    
     Soon enough your darlings dance alone, 
     
     with the body of a stranger, 
     
    

    
     to the sorrow of the music moan 
     
     learning to stay out of danger, 
     
    

    
     by creeping into bed alone. 
     
    
   
   
    
     Free of death, at last, 
     
     passed into the sodden gravep 
     
    
   
   
    
     - I laugh . 
     
    
   
   
    
     At the nodding faces, saying yes 
     
     it '3 true, I'm through. 
     
    

    
     So long in coming, that final 
     
     numbing A 
     
    

    
     there was no decision, deaths 
     
     in living. 
     
    
   
   
    
     Avenge,but how, the-German Jen 
     
    
   
   
    
     'w'hose‘bones‘ are burned or. rotted through. ~ 
     
     ‘Avenge - revenge, the echo resounds 
     
    
   
   
    
     off my tongue with the same brutalysound ~ _ 
     
     that the rat-at-tat-tat of‘the machine guns rattle 
     
     to the ones rounded up, in a herd like cattle 
     
    
   
   
    
     _ made as they ripped through the silent sleun 
     
    
   
   
    
     effortless, ‘like empty carcassesor stone 
     
     they fell to their fate like baited game. 
     
     And‘the legacy they left is hating shame. 
     
     Avenge 1-- rev-enge, oh rat-at-tat-tat. 
     
    

    
     Yes, Hitler died, the slimy rat. 
     
    

    
     We wanted to kill him, he should haye paid. 
     
    
   
   
    
     Education 
     
    
   
   
    
     We are each others homework: 
     
     And I learn the lesson of yOur lips.