CUSFS Termcard for Michaelmas Term 2004

The gyptian boat was gliding silently through the night when Serafina Pekkala's goose dæmon returned. Lyra, peering through the porthole of her tiny cabin, watched it arrive and leave again, rising majestically into the sky on powerful grey wings. There was a knock on her cabin door, and Farder Coram entered, followed by his beautiful cat dæmon.

"We must return to Fen City and hide for a few days," he told her. "It is dangerous to continue. Can the alethiometer tell us the nature of the danger?"

Lyra pulled the alethiometer out from under her pillow and hunched over it, bundled up in her bedclothes. Pantalaimon changed to a mouse and nestled on her shoulder. She set the alethiometer's hands to the baby, which meant the future, and the horse, for a journey, and the owl, for danger. She concentrated, and immediately its hands swung away to reveal the answer.

"It's not very clear," she said. "There's talking, lots of people discussing something, but I can't tell what, and a book ... no, several books, and tea and coffee and long orange scarves? Oh, this is hopeless!" She dropped the alethiometer onto the bed in dismay.

"Do not worry, child," said Farder Coram. "Serafina Pekkala said we should seek the committee; they will be able to aid us, whatever the danger is."

"How will we find them?" asked Pantalaimon.

"Serafina Pekkala said they are currently to be found in Fen City; Clough 227, Newnham College, to be exact."

"But that's miles away!" exclaimed Lyra. "How soon can we get there?"

Farder Coram squinted at the stars and considered a while before speaking. "7:30 on Sunday, by my reckoning."

"Perfect," said Lyra, and went to find her scarf.

The perfect antidote to Fifth Week Blues. Bring a game, or come and play someone else's. Games old, new and very very silly will be played. Hopefully, we will also be holding last year's delayed election of CUSFS vice-presidents, by a top-secret method to be revealed nearer the time.

There will also be a chance to look through the library sale books. We have several hundred spare SF and fantasy books for sale, so come prepared to grab yourself a bargain or three...

With the exception of those living in a cave on Pluto who receive CUSFS weekly missives by carrier pigeon, it is unlikely to have escaped anyone's attention that the 'original' Star Wars trilogy was recently released on DVD. Representing George Lucas' latest attempt at what still seems to be a work in progress, the films nonetheless remain greatly entertaining classics. Come and join CUSFS as we journey to a galaxy far, far away for an evening in the company of Han Solo, Luke Skywalker, Princess Leia and Darth Vader.

Just don't mention Episodes I to III.

SF may have its roots in literature, but it's best known to most people through TV shows and films. Why is SF literature still such a niche genre when media SF is so mainstream? What do Stargate, Babylon 5, and Buffy do that SF novels don't, and what are the strengths and weaknesses of visual SF? What's the next big thing or your favourite show from times past?

Battlestar Galactica, Hex, Doctor Who, Buffy, Firefly, Blake's 7, Babylon 5 and, yes, Star Trek are all up for discussion, so join us as we take a critical look through the square window.

In days of old, as the nights drew in, the Jomsvikingar would oftentimes gather round a blazing fire to tell stories of great bravery and valour. Each in turn would relate a turning of the tale, and then fall silent and allow another to take up the threads. In time a wondrous tale would be spun, and each would retire to sleep with a tear of regret at its ending.

This will be just like that, only with more spaceships (and less fire). Mince pies and mulled wine will be provided to ease the flow of words. All welcome--even if you don't feel like joining in, feel free to come and listen.

To avoid a swift descent into complete chaos, Jomsborg's Bard has provided the start of the tale, given below to set your imaginations going. There's only one rule: NO TIME-TRAVEL PLEASE. Beyond that, the Universe is your oyster...

"This is Guiding Light, please respond. Celestial, this is Guiding Light. Please respond."

Captain Mayhew listened to his own voice loop endlessly out of the comm as the Imperial Scout Ship Guiding Light pushed on to the last recorded location of the Celestial. After days following its wake they were still unable to raise it. All Mayhew could do was sit in his chair and stare at the space in front.

Behind him a door opened and two officers, Finch and Taylor from their voices, walked onto the bridge. He craned his neck round to look -- why couldn't they have designed him a swivel chair? -- and saw the glossy brochure in Finch's hands. Marketing for the Celestial.

"It's amazing," she wowed. "Ten swimming pools and three adjustable sub-aqua environments."

"'Adjustable sub-aqua environments'," mocked Taylor. "Still, I'm looking forward to a rest and a good meal on the Celestial."

Even after a week of silence, nobody believed the problem with the Celestial was anything but a comms glitch.

There was a beep. Taylor and Finch looked up. Captain Mayhew stood. "You won't have to wait long. We've got a silhouette, and it's the Celestial. You'll be boarding within the hour."