Science fiction’s otherworldliness is rooted in our search for a moral centre Fans gather to share ideas and show off costumes.

At 15, Emily Perry’s probing intellect kept panellists twice her age on their toes debating the merits of The Prime Directive - the philosophical foundation of the Star Trek universe.

If, as the directive states, non-interference is the key to helping a culture develop normally, she muses, when is the world obligated to step in to prevent genocide?

"There is nothing escapist or silly about (science fiction)," she says in an interview after the panel discussion. "It gives us a forum to debate moral and ethical issues - a window into our future. Where else would people gather to discuss such important ethical concepts?

"We, as a society, need to be prepared."

That the petite young woman with the intense eyes and the vast vocabulary also sports a pair of pointy plastic ears might seem incongruous to some. But for those who appreciate Mr. Spock, he of the original pointy ears, it was only logical.

For Perry, who came from Montreal with her father Alan, an Anglican priest, for this month’s Toronto Trek convention, the pointy ears were no costume - they were her way of paying homage to the lofty ideals of logic and reason she feels are key to a peaceful future.

Like Perry, the 3,000 who came to the conference were drawn not only by the joys of aliens, space travel and magic and mystery, but also by the chance to inhabit an alternative universe with like-minded fans.

And they are the tip of the iceberg. Popular culture has given such a central role to fantasy and science fiction that, for every conference participant dressed as an elf or a hobbit, there are surely thousands of people out there quietly rereading The Lord Of The Rings.

But in a day and age where reality shows dominate the airwaves, what makes these sci-fi fantasy lovers tick?

Science fiction/fantasy screenwriter and author Isaac Szpindel says he thinks the lure is the positive view of the future. "There are villains and bad guys but, overall, good triumphs and the heroes win. It is a longing for a Utopian future where everybody is accepted as equals. They (participants) are also a confident, outgoing bunch. They don’t care what people think of them and they are ready to accept others just as they are."

University of Toronto psychology professor Jordan Peterson says conventions engender such strong followings because they fill a need in modern society that more formal religion did in earlier eras. Though they deal with characters that may be set in the future, there is a strong moral and ethical element to the mythology behind science fiction and fantasy. It expresses the human need for larger-than-life heroes and epic battles, and for good to triumph over evil.

Participants who role-play are, on one level, just having fun, but they are also seeking a better understanding of right and wrong in their fantasy universes and stories, he says. Dressing up in costume expresses an age-old need for ritual and pageantry. And in a world where people feel increasingly disconnected, finding their place in a universe that seems larger than life gives a great sense of belonging.

"If offers them...in many ways what more archaic forms of religion offer - a tribal base," he says.

Peterson says the strong focus on charity events - over the years, the Toronto convention has raised $100,000 for Ronald McDonald House - lets groups gather around an ethical centre and feel good about their world.

Walter Koenig, who was one of the draws at the Toronto Trek convention, says the lure of science fiction and fantasy is that it "gives one the opportunity to dream.

"It makes us feel revitalized," says the sci-fi elder statesmen who played Pavel Chekov in the original Star Trek series and Psi-cop Bester in Babylon 5 in the ’90s.

"Despite all the new special effects, it is still about humanity and human relationships."

The convention - held over three days last weekend - is in its 18th year. Billed as a celebration of all genres of science fiction and fantasy, including television, books, art and related hobbies and skills, the event drew people from all over Canada and from as far away as Japan, the United Kingdom and Australia.

Fans of Harry Potter, Star Wars and The Lord Of The Rings mixed with Star Trek devotees and lovers of the "Buffyverse" (the universe comprised of the original TV show Buffy The Vampire Slayer and its spinoff Angel) as well as Babylon 5, Dr. Who and Farscape, among others.

There were 200 hours of panels and workshops, including "Fantasy Swordplay," "How to Make an Alien," a primer in how to speak Klingon (if you’re not spitting and in need of a towel you’re doing it wrong, says instructor Krikor Ajemian), an Anime exhibit, an art show, a panel discussion on "Waiting for the Next SARS" and a presentation by Inge Heyer, one of the scientists with the Hubble Space Telescope.

It’s a long way from the early days when "university nerds" gathered to watch video marathons of a defunct 1960s science fiction show.

These days, the convention, which is strictly non-profit and is staffed by volunteers, has an operating budget of $100,000.

Friday night kicked off with Klingon Karaoke, where a group from KAG (the Klingon Assault Group) led a rousing chorus of "Yellow Bird Of Prey" (sung to the tune of "Yellow Submarine").

This was followed by a group sing-along to the entire score from the musical episode of Buffy The Vampire Slayer, "Once More With Feeling."

Though sci-fi fans complain they are maligned and stereotyped as teenaged male geeks, it turns out that 63 per cent of those who attend the conventions are female, with the largest demographic being women aged 36 to 40.

About 68 per cent of participants have post-secondary education up to and including doctorates.

Fran Duncan, 79, from Stoney Creek has come to five or six conventions in recent years with her daughter, Judith Holliday, 40.

"I don’t think fantasy and using your imagination hurts at any age," Duncan said. "It’s a lovely group of people - all ages, all types and races, some (are people with) disabilities. It is a very tolerant, accepting group."

Though many line up for hours to get an autograph or have their picture taken with a favourite sci-fi or fantasy star, most at the convention, like Duncan, say the high point of the weekend is the Masquerade - a sort of sci-fi/fantasy costume Olympics.

Contestants are judged on original handmade costumes. There are three divisions: Novice is for any costumer who has never won an award; Journeyman is for costumers who have won at least one but fewer than three awards; and Artisan is for costumers who have won three or more awards.

By early Saturday morning, the cavalcade of aliens begins, as many come dressed as their favourite characters. The attention to detail makes some look like they just stepped off a movie or TV set.

"We’ve all got a bit of a creative mindset here," says Mike Kutac, 27, of Calgary, who is a prime example of costume craftsmanship, dressed as a Roswell gray alien. "I’ve done dozens of costumes over the years."

Tessa Wojdylo, 19, from Toronto, is putting the finishing touches on her Star Wars smugglers costume in the women’s washroom. "Look, we need more fantasy in our life," says the film student from Ryerson University.

"So many kids are into drinking and partying. That stuff is boring. This takes imagination."

In the dining area, Carol Cowen, a 42-year-old pharmacy technician from Norwich, Ont., is a vision in blue and purple as the bald but beautiful Zan from Farscape.

"It’s about myth and magic and things being timeless, " she says. "I’ve been coming for 11 years and it keeps getting better.

"People are very tolerant and accepting here. I’ve made so many lasting relationships with people I’ve met. We have so much in common."

Kathryn McKinnon-Buck, 51, met her husband Leslie, 36, at a convention 14 years ago. A special education teacher, she says she has an instant rapport with her students when they see her Star Wars or Star Trek posters.

"It’s intelligent," she says, "but for the kid in all of us, too."