The fifth edition of The Year’s Best Military & Adventure SF opens with a preface by the editor who muses on the series’ five-year voyage before giving way to an introduction by David Weber who again muses on the horrors of war coupled with the benefits of speculating on it and its future.
Despite the introduction, only half of this anthology is military SF, with the other half fitting better under the “Adventure” portion of the title. Stephen Lawson’s superb “Homunculus” is a case in point….
A new printzine isn’t something you see every day.
The second issue of DreamForge is subtitled “Tales of Indomitable Spirit” and ten of its eleven flash pieces are placed under that heading. It also contains five original stories, a reprint, a poem, a submission guide, and an editorial. The latter is a stirring call to reason which characterizes SF&F as “the literature of ideas, not the bulletins of despair” and concludes with an Asimov quote. Given that, it was disappointing that three of the longer stories were species of fantasy and the two others had minimal sfnal idea-content. However, the flash pieces tended more towards SF. Many of the stories feature young protagonists but it wasn’t until “Lightweight” that I realized that this issue would be an excellent thing to hand a young reader with its mostly straightforward plots and prose and its abundant artwork. For other readers, the biggest flaw was that the plots were often resolved too easily but the overall quality of this promising magazine was still interesting-to-good.
- “I See Punk Elephants” by Blake Jessop (science fiction short story)
- “Pioneer” by Mark Gallacher (science fiction short story)
- “Sid” by Andrew Jensen (fantasy short story)
- “The Weight of Mountains” by L. Deni Colter (fantasy short story)
Here’s a somewhat unusual round-robin review:
(Stories reviewed by Mike Wyant, Jr., Jason McGregor, and Victoria Silverwolf)
- “Painless” by Rich Larson (science fictional short story)
- “The Last Eagle” by Natalia Theodoridou (science fictional short story)
- “Ripen” by Yukimi Ogawa (fantasy novelette)
- “Gaze of Robot, Gaze of Bird” by Eric Schwitzgebel (science fiction short story)
- “Social Darwinism” by Priya Chand (science fiction short story)
- “Skyscrapers in the Sand” by Y.M. Pang (science fictional short story)
The original stories in this issue of Clarkesworld include something I can’t see as SF, two pieces which provide only indifferent tokens of SF, and two more vigorously science fictional tales.
“Ripen” feels like a strange hybrid of science fiction and fantasy involving an island of colorful people interacting with mainland tourists while menial colorless people try to get by. When a tourist and a colorful person with skin problems get involved with some colorless people on the illegal edge of the makeup industry, someone may get hurt. Akin to last issue’s “Smile,” the story is rife with uncorrected solecisms though they generally weren’t as bad as last month’s story, aside from things like someone demanding to see Madam’s crack. The story wasn’t especially interesting but I did appreciate the positively shifting appearance (beyond the skin-deep) of one of the characters.
“Skyscrapers” is an unsatisfying elliptical short tale about an ill and/or older woman memorializing an old flame via a time capsule. The speculative element is that she’s doing so in an ecologically ruined Shanghai.
A female becoming a male and someone who may be male are searching for a third who, in turn, has gone looking for “The Last Eagle” and the pair find something. There’s very little story in these 6000 words and less science fiction with only the symbols of a future post-war period in which the third they’re searching for is an “Artificial.”
The protagonist of “Social Darwinism” is woman who has been modified to be an attention-whore. She’s offered advertising minutes if she’ll participate in the agenda of a shadowy group of differently modified people to sway public opinion to do away with her kind. It’s good that this story has integral SF elements (however thematically/symbolically deployed) but they are confusingly presented and the actual core of the story is repellently akin to a daytime TV show.
Finally, “Gaze of Robot, Gaze of Bird” is about a “complicated toaster” and a “knot of fuzz.” The former takes the latter to an alien world and begins to modify that world, along with its prokaryotic life. Along the way, we learn that the robot has been sent out by a species that has been wiped out long before our tale starts with a stuffed monkey as a sort of ideal of beauty and teleological goal for recreating the dead species. This is one of those stories where words fail me, but it’s certainly one of my favorite stories of the year, joining Auston Habershaw’s “Applied Linguistics” (Jan./Feb. 2019 Analog) and Tom Greene’s “Better” (Mar./Apr. 2019 Analog) in a triptych of recent rare examples of Real Science Fiction™. There is one overt didactic paragraph I wish could have been more dramatically integrated with the main story and one can certainly argue about the odd morphological rather than, say, genetic approach to the task and there is certainly an interesting moral conundrum for the reader to play with which can put a sinister interpretation on the events but the latter two are as much virtues as vices, being among the things which give the reader much to think about. This is a short story which operates on gargantuan scales of time and space, has an intriguing combination of hard-edged objective narration and earned, unashamed sentimentality, and has a protagonist in J11-L that is worthy of joining the pantheon of Asimovian robots. I vigorously recommend this tale.
This post is a work-in-progress which recaps the three big printzines (plus two more which were reviewed for Tangent) and BCS, Clarkesworld, Lightspeed, and Galaxy’s Edge which combined to produce 82 stories for 330K words. Other than Galaxy’s Edge, I’ve yet to read the March stories from any of the selectively reviewed zines (and, since Tor.com neglected to produce a second bi-monthly issue, I haven’t read the March stories from it, either), so I’ll finish reading all that in April and update this post then.
- “Better” by Tom Greene, Analog, March/April 2019 (novelette)
- “Contagion’s Eve at the House Noctambulous” by Rich Larson, F&SF, March/April 2019 (novelette)
- “Instantiation” by Greg Egan, Asimov’s, March/April 2019 (novella)
- “Second Quarter and Counting” by James Van Pelt, Analog, March/April 2019 (short story)
- “Totenhaus” by Amanda J. Bermudez, Black Static #68, March/April 2019 (horror short story)
- “The End of Lunar Hens” by M.K. Hutchins, Analog, March/April 2019 (short story)
- “Hellhold” by Sean Patrick Hazlett, Galaxy’s Edge #37, March/April 2019 (horror short story)
- “The Mark of Cain” by John Kessel, F&SF, March/April 2019 (short story)
- “Mr. Death Goes to the Beach” by Jack Dann, Asimov’s, March/April 2019 (short story)
- Analog, March/April 2019
- Asimov’s, March/April 2019
- BCS #272-274
- Black Static #68, March/April 2019 (at Tangent)
- Clarkesworld #150, March 2019
- F&SF, March/April 2019
- Interzone #280, March/April 2019 (at Tangent)
- Lightspeed #106, March 2019
- Selected Stories: 2019-03-31
This issue of Black Static contains two novelettes and four short stories
whose quality are almost uniformly inversely proportional to their length,
with the shortest story achieving excellence, though a few may be sufficiently
creepy to entertain.
- “Totenhaus” by Amanda J. Bermudez (horror short story)
Date: September 1978 (originally January 1967)
Publisher: Ace (originally Ballantine)
I was intending to re-read Nightwings and discuss it but caught a bug early this month and didn’t want to do that in that state, so picked up a different volume to correct a glaring omission in my reading which, coincidentally, also consists of stories published by Fred Pohl in the 1960s. (Some of them are online as part of The Berserker Wars, one of the needless, probably harmful, repackagings of parts of the series and are linked to in the individual story comments.)
Berserker collects the first eleven tales in the series of the same name, plus a twelfth “story” interleaved throughout, in which a pacifist alien presents all the others to us. All the stories have individual beginnings, middles, and ends but about half (and much the longer and better half) also tell a fairly unified main story with recurring characters (“Goodlife,” “Stone Place,” “What T and I Did,” “The Masque of the Red Shift,” “In the Temple of Mars,” “The Face of the Deep”) while several generally shorter, lesser stories tend to alternate with those (“Without a Thought,” “Patron of the Arts,” “The Peacemaker,” “Mr. Jester,” and “Sign of the Wolf”). Even though there is a unified story, it contains mild inconsistencies as exemplified by a belated effort in “Temple” to paper over the disappearance of the mind beams after “Thought.”) I’d recommend “What T and I Did,” “The Masque of the Red Shift,” and “The Face of the Deep” from the core group (but don’t read “Face” out of order) and “Patron of the Arts” from the others. “Masque” was rightly nominated for a major award and, inexplicably, so was “Mr. Jester.”
Given their reputation, I was astonished at how relatively inefficient and ineffective the Berserkers were. The New Wave of British Space Opera, with its Inhibitors and whatnot, were able to build on the Berserkers to great effect. That said, I still wouldn’t want Berserkers to be real and the stories are still often effective. Other influential elements that immediately spring to mind include an element in the later main stories which may have inspired a key element in Pohl’s masterpiece, Gateway; that the original Battlestar Galactica‘s Cylons and Baltar (a character introduced in “Stone Place” and featured in “What T and I Did”) comes almost lock, stock, and barrel from here; and that the conclusion of Han Solo’s Bespin adventure could have come from here. (Though it’s also likely all these things have earlier precedents from Wells’ Martians to Benedict Arnold to the girl in Simak’s Cosmic Engineers or even King Arthur.)
“Without a Thought” (originally titled “Fortress Ship”) is almost like Asimovian military SF as there’s a combat puzzle to be solved. A pair of human ships have a Berserker vessel checked but are waiting on a third human ship to arrive and make it checkmate. In the meantime, the Berserker is using its mind control weapon on the nearest human ship which is crewed only by Del Murray and his aiyan, or dog-ape pet-ally. The Berserker sets up a contest by which it hopes to know if the human has succumbed to its weapon and the human has to use his own very limited resources and his alien buddy of limited intelligence to try to trick the machine into believing he’s still in possession of his faculties. The machine’s mind control weapon is a bit of magic but the parameters are laid out fairly and the story’s pretty clever.
“Goodlife” is a much more substantial tale and not just because it’s a novelette. One of three humans is dying when they are captured by a Berserker who has raised a captive human, known as (an example of) Goodlife. That human brutally finishes off the dying man and the other two are brought aboard the Berserker vessel. The man, Hemphill, has a bomb but is holding off until he can use it for maximum effect. The “nature vs. nurture” elements aren’t bad and the depiction of the Berserker vessel is excellent but Maria, the female prisoner, is a bit too sentimental without sufficient motivation. The stark and dark conflict in which suicide bombing seems like a decent plan made me think of some Baxter stories, such as the Silver Ghost tales.
While positioned third in the book, “Patron of the Arts” was actually the sixth published. It’s a very effective look at Piers Herron, an artist who is jaded past the point of most mere mortals, which produces interesting results when he’s captured by machines making war on life. The only problem here is that the theme may a bit too explicit at the end.
“The Peacemaker” (originally flipped around with the title “The Life Hater”) involves the murderous machines, as usual, but also with a seemingly insanely naive man who wants to negotiate a peace with them. This is less aesthetically significant than the previous two, settling for a decently presented ironic result.
More than even “Without a Thought” or “Goodlife” (which are stories with combat elements) “Stone Place” is the first clearly “military SF” tale. With nearly twice the length of any other story in the book and multiple aspects (including bringing Hemphill back from “Goodlife” for a minor role), it’s also one of the more ambitious tales. It mainly tackles the “Great Man” concept and the power of belief as well as detailing some internal conflicts in the Solar System which manifest even under Berserker threat. It also throws in a difficulty with a woman who’s been reprogrammed by the Berserkers to reject the leader she’d been betrothed to and who, instead, jumps into the arms of his lieutenant. This later part could have been mined for some powerful effects but wasn’t especially convincing. I also wasn’t convinced by certain gung-ho aspects which aim for the adrenalized thrill of approaching combat but which plummet into bathos. (After one man is skinned by the machines, humans yell “Death to the flayers!” and the narrative voice observes: “The shout ran like a flame through the corridor.”) Finally, there is one moment where the narrative voice also observes: “Now for a time the fight would be computer against computer, faithful slave of life against outlaw, neither caring, neither knowing,” which begs the question why humans present themselves to the Berserkers for combat at all. Still, the story does generally move along and provides some food for thought.
“What T and I Did” returns to a much smaller tale, but brings back “Baltar” (here called both “T” and “Thad” and ensconced as human leader of several prisoners in a Berserker ship after the battle of the last story) in an interesting little psychodrama involving the minds of a traitor. In its dark psychological focus, it’s akin to “Patron of the Arts” (which comes right after it in the original order of publication).
“Mr. Jester” is a bizarre bit of inconsistency, dealing with a light-hearted man rebelling against the very serious government of an isolated planet with the help of an improperly repaired Berserker which he’s been able to turn into a comic assistant. Perhaps one could applaud the reach of a series which includes genocidal machines and humor and perhaps this coincidental riff on “‘Repent, Harlequin!’ Said the Ticktockman” (published by Pohl a month earlier) would have worked in the abstract but it seems out of place in this book.
Poe! “The Masque of the Red Shift” slams things back into grim violence. Felipe Nogara has become emperor of humanity but perceives his half-brother, Johann Karlsen (featured in “Stone Place”), as a threat, so has frozen him (though not in carbonite) and told the galaxy he’s died of plague. The Berserkers also see Karlsen as a threat to them and want to confirm his death so, when a defeated and brainwashed rebel warrior and his sister are transferred to Nogara’s ship full of decadent revelers orbiting a “hypermassive sun,” they insert themselves in a most morbid and violent way. A very effective and exciting tale, albeit a bit conventionally puritanical.
“Sign of the Wolf” is a sort of cute tale about a rustic shepherd on a planet that’s lost knowledge of its technological background stumbling into a situation in which a planetary defense computer wants authorization to defend against an attacking Berserker and he wants a god to help him destroy a wolf who’s slowly making off with his flock. The shepherd seems to not mind an inconsistency in the conclusion as much as I do, but it’s not a bad tale.
“In the Temple of Mars” carries on the main story, with Hemphill (now an admiral) and a captain from “Stone Place” (now a journalist) taking a replacement vessel to Nogara but with the plan to divert and rescue an important person. Unfortunately, a group of secret police have turned to berserker-worshiping and a prisoner (now on the loose) has been brainwashed by them to kill Hemphill so that they can take the ship for their own purposes. The use of the female character is weak (as usual) and made worse by a rather ham-handed “Mars vs. Venus” motif (using Chaucer) but the story otherwise moves along at a good clip and holds attention (as usual).
I can’t get into “The Face of the Deep” at all without spoilers, really, so I’ll just say that it is in the main storyline and cleverly wraps up the volume with a nicely staged insight into human nature.