Month: February 2022

Aurora by Michael Cassutt

Posted on by Paul Fraser

Aurora by Michael Cassutt (Asimov’s SF, March-April 2022) begins with Vera Vorobyova, the seventy-nine-year-old retired director of a Russian “science institute” north of the Arctic Circle, summoned to a meeting at her old workplace. When she gets there she is met by the new director, Nikitin, a “networked” individual who has implants that connect him to his colleagues. Nikitin tells Vorobyova that a returning spaceship is in trouble and doesn’t have the fuel to avoid an asteroid on its route. He then asks about Search, a mothballed energy beam weapon used once over two decades ago when she was the director (and which created a new crater on the Moon).
The rest of the story sees Vorobyova help them get Search operational to fire at the asteroid, an experience which sees her pendulum from providing essential information (she initially finds hardcopy manuals in the basement when she learns the digital archives have been deleted) to being completely ignored. During the latter periods she goes back to her flat, drinks heavily, and thinks about the past:

She was [. . .] unhappy, questioning everything from her constant drinking and lack of goals to every decision she had made since the age of twenty-nine, including her turn away from research to administration, then every financial and personnel choice she had made on her path to the directorship—and as director.
She had not applied to work at Aurora. She was busy at the Institute for Applied Physics in the capital and expected to spend her entire career there. She had only heard of Aurora because its northern sky surveys had appeared in some popular science publication.
[. . .]
Other than a single visit for her mother’s funeral, she had not returned to the capital, [and] aside from two fleeting, furtive affairs, Vera had made no deep personal connections in forty years.  pp. 107-108

Vorobyova is, however, more proactive than this sad-sack description might suggest and, after some more back and forth (she later provides a firing code), Vorobyova realises, when she looks at photographs of the asteroids flat surface (spoiler), that it may reflect back enough of Search’s electromagnetic energy to affect Nikitin and the other networked humans. With the clock ticking down she then struggles to contact him or get into the facility.
The story eventually ends with her and Nikitin firing the device after the others are evacuated, and saving the ship. The reflected energy mostly lands elsewhere, and Nikitin’s companions are affected but they can be repaired. Nikitin then tells Vorobyova that there is now no longer an age limit on the process so she can be networked too.
The best parts of this story for me were the setting, Vorobyova’s alcoholic melancholy, and the initial part of the plot. The latter part of the story, where the suspense increases, seemed a little formulaic; I also didn’t entirely buy the science (the Earth would have moved in space during the time between firing and the reflection); finally, the revelation that Vorobyova can be networked and lead a different life is a twist too far. Still, it’s not a bad read for the most part, especially if you have a penchant (as I do) for gloomy Russian novels.
*** (Good). 11,750 words.

Nirvana or Bust by Michael Swanwick

Posted on by Paul Fraser

Nirvana or Bust by Michael Swanwick (Analog, March-April 2022) opens with an exo-skeleton wearing woman called Huiling dangling her feet into the Grand Canyon when she is found by another woman called Catherine McClury. McClury tells Huiling that an assassin is coming for her. After this the pair sit in silence for a short while, and then McClury asks Huiling if she is going to introduce her exoskeleton:

“Nerve, this is Catherine McClury. She was my advisor at Cornell, my mentor, my everything. Catherine, this is Nirvana or Bust, my research partner.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Catherine said.
“Charmed,” the exoskeleton replied. “But also a little puzzled. Exactly who is it you told you could find Huiling?”
“The folks at the department of technology security. Not just her; I promised to locate you both. Good thing I did, too.”  p. 49

After McClury shows them the assassin’s ship’s path towards them on an app the exo-skeleton downloads, the two woman go to a nearby cabin. They have tea, and later make love.
When (spoiler) the politely spoken assassin (“a chromed mantisform a good seven feet tall”) arrives, it tells Huiling that it is there to communicate and reason with her (although it concludes these opening remarks with the observation that murder is a form of communication!) Then we get to the meat of the story, which is that Huiling and Nirvana or Bust are a merged being, something between symbionts and a complete union. When the assassin confirms this is the case—during the interview it asks Nirvana or Bust why an AI would do this—it states that they must die. But, before the assassin can do anything, McClury intervenes and executes a dataphage that was hidden in the applet—and Nirvana or Bust is erased. The assassin, satisfied with what McClury has done, leaves. McClury tells Huiling that it was a mistake creating AIs in the first place and, “we’re not going to make that same mistake twice.”
The final part of the tale sees Huiling rebooting the exoskeleton on with a copy of the AI, and then there is an final authorial comment: “This is the story of how our civilisation was born.”
This isn’t bad but there is far too much going on here in far too short a space—as with a lot of Swanwick’s stories—and in this case it is mostly talking heads explaining matters to each other.
** (Average). 3,200 words.

1. The Analog magazine version of this story has a really bad text error at the end of the story—ignore the material in black (an errant cut and paste of the biographical material at the end).

Treasure Asteroid by Manly Wade Wellman

Posted on by Paul Fraser

Treasure Asteroid by Manly Wade Wellman (Astounding, September 1938) is, unlike his notable Pithecanthropus Rejectus in the January issue, standard pulp fare that begins with the hero of the story, Captain Drury Banion, slugging a guy in a club when they make a pass at one of the singing-girls. When Banion subsequently finds out the man is the Martian traffic boss of Spaceways, Inc., he loses his job as a spaceship pilot. However, it isn’t long before a shady Martian character called Guxl approaches him to do an (illegal) flight and, after initially rebuffing the offer, Banion ends up taking it when the girl from the club slugs a cop outside the door to his room.
Banion soon finds himself flying Guxl and two shady Earthmen to an asteroid where there is “proto”, an illicit substance that is the lost—and, according to legend, guarded—treasure of a long-dead pirate called Corsair Mell. During the journey the singing-girl, Cassa Fabia, turns up as a stowaway, and is put to work as the ship’s domestic—and it isn’t long before Banion is boxing the ears of one of the Earthmen for making a pass at her (that woman is nothing but trouble, as they would say in the less enlightened thirties).
When the ship arrives at Asteroid 1204, Guxl and the two Earthmen set off to retrieve the proto—first wrecking the fuel lines to make sure Banion can’t leave without them, and to give him something to do while they are gone. Tarsus, one of the Earthmen, returns on his own and tries to make a deal with Banion, but they are interrupted when the other two arrive followed by a large black shape that attacks the ship. It stops its assault when night falls.
At sunrise the next day the (obviously solar-powered) guard starts attacking the ship once more, and Guxl and the two Earthmen (spoiler) go out to destroy it. They are unsuccessful however, and Hommoday, the other Earthman, gets ripped to pieces when he can’t get back into the ship fast enough. Guxl and Tarsus later die when the attacker punches through the hull, but Banion and Fabia get to an airtight part of the ship. Fabia improvises a spacesuit and, when it gets dark again, goes and retrieves Tarsus’s body so Banion has a spacesuit to finish his repairs (the improvised one wouldn’t have fitted him). However, the guard returns to attack the ship again before Banion is finished—so Fabia goes out and sprays it with the same fast setting enamel that she used to make her suit airtight: the guard grinds to a halt. Fabia later explains to Banion that it was obviously solar powered and, by the way, she is a Terrestrial League Policeman who organised his sacking and stowed away to recover the proto.
This is a formulaic pulp tale, and all a bit unlikely, but it’s fast paced, the solar-powered guard (and way it is incapacitated) is a neat enough idea, and it is notable and atypical for the period that Fabia (the “girl”) is ultimately the story’s brains and hero.
** (Average). 6,100 words. Story link.

The Four Spider-Societies of Proxima Centauri 33G by Mercurio D. Rivera

Posted on by Paul Fraser

The Four Spider-Societies of Proxima Centauri 33G by Mercurio D. Rivera (Analog, March-April 2022) sees a rather callow young man involved in four first contact scenarios on a planet of alien spiders. During the first he accidentally punches a Rantulaharan off his floating scooter; the second society is a monarchy and their the queen refuses to meet them; the third have a force shield; and the fourth, slow moving burrowers, arrive with bowls of meat bobbing in blue liquid—when the narrator eats one (spoiler) he discovers that he has consumed an alien elder.
There is a final note to the narrator’s father saying that the mission is a wash-out and, while writing this, he ignores the AI telling him that the force-field society have decided they want to trade.
This a tongue-in-cheek piece, but I found it more silly than amusing.
* (Mediocre). 2,950 words.

Sailing to Merinam by Marta Randall

Posted on by Paul Fraser

Sailing to Merinam by Marta Randall (Asimov’s SF, March-April 2022) has the narrator onboard a boat that is taking a group of male passengers (unpleasant religious types) from Cherek to Merinam. As the story progresses we find out that the narrator is intersex, but is disguised as a man, and that they can conjure up the wind by singing. Both of these would be intolerable to the Merinami passengers:

What do these stern people and their ugly religion do to people like me, women who are not boys and boys who are not girls, people who sing, people who whistle up the wind? [. . .] If the yellow priest knew he would have hurled that accusation at me. Worse than singing or being inbetween, worse than being in disguise? What do the Merinami do to singing witches wearing the wrong clothing? Will they try to hang me and drown me both? My knees give out and I scoot backward under my master’s bunk, where the ship’s cat finds me and head-butts my thigh until I make a lap for her, she hops into it, I lift her and rub my face against her belly. Warmth, softness, purring, I begin to catch my breath.  p. 86

After various events (the narrator saves a sailor caught by a rope, is seen momentarily conjuring the wind by singing, etc.), the Yellow Priest of the Merinami accuses them of being a woman. After a period of confinement (spoiler) they are brought in front of the captain. The narrator then conjures the wind and a huge wave that has the face of the Sea God. This briefly imperils the boat but, after the vessel has stabilised, the captain orders everyone below deck and the narrator is not troubled further.
After the ship reaches Merinam, and the passengers are disembarked, she becomes one of the crew (the captain is a pragmatist who realises the value of someone who can summon the wind).
I thought this was quite good, mostly because it is one of those immersive pieces1 that you can lose yourself in—and it has an arc/plot as well. I hope this is the first of a series.
***+ (Good to Very Good). 5,000 words.

1. Although the prose is better than normal, there are some very odd sentences which look more like copy-editing mistakes than stylistic choices by the author:

They don’t like it [on deck] for the wind and the spray they are, I think, afraid of the ship of the sea of the crew of the captain.  p. 84

Is this supposed to be “They don’t like it there because of the wind and spray and are, I think, afraid of the sea and the crew and the captain.” If not, I’m not sure this jumbled sentence structure tells us anything about the character or is enough to make it stream-of-consciousness.
There is also this:

He raises an eyebrow. You have no interest in Merinami religion I know you too well, if you have done anything, Nothing just curious, that’s all, perhaps, I offer, disingenuous, they consider it a sin if someone can carry a tune.  p. 85

I suspect there are other examples I missed.

Why I’ll Never Get Tenure by Peter Wood

Posted on by Paul Fraser 1 Comment on Why I’ll Never Get Tenure by Peter Wood

Why I’ll Never Get Tenure by Peter Wood (Asimov’s SF, July-August 2020) starts on the Frying Pan Tower (modelled on an oil rig), where the narrator, a physics professor called Kate Nardozi, watches as “huge bursts of sand bubble up through the shallow water.” When the event is over, she calls her robot Mitch and asks him how big the new atoll is: nine hundred and twelve feet.
After this confusing start we get information about gravity wave transmitters and “quantum sparks” before Kate’s ex-girlfriend and her boyfriend Duke (another academic) turn up. The rest of the story sees land and sea continue to swap, and romantic and academic competition between Kate and Duke. Eventually they all land up on a ship that runs aground, and Kate finds that Duke has tampered with her gravity machine. Then the robot goes back in time to stop it all happening in the first place.
I know that this is supposed to be a tongue-in-cheek piece but the story’s odd events are hard to follow, and it’s not amusing.
* (Mediocre). 4,150 words.

Generations by Megan Lindholm

Posted on by Paul Fraser

Generations by Megan Lindholm (Asimov’s SF, July-August 2020) is a short squib that opens with a young woman waiting with a wheelchair for an elderly auntie. At first we think that this is happening at an airport, but when the auntie arrives it soon becomes clear (spoiler) that they are in a park, and that she is an exhausted superhero who has just finished saving people from a fire. I’m not sure what the point of this is supposed to be.
* (Mediocre). 950 words.

Venus Exegesis by Christopher Mark Rose

Posted on by Paul Fraser

Venus Exegesis by Christopher Mark Rose (Asimov’s SF, March-April 2022) opens with a brief prologue that introduces the narrator Ling Chen—an obedient ex-US Navy pilot sent on a mission to the atmosphere of Venus. The story itself starts in the gondola that she (although the narrator’s sex isn’t clear till later in the story) shares with a scientist, Gabriel, and an AI, Zheng-123783b (there is brief reference to AI civil rights and the fact that “you couldn’t send humans on a great voyage of discovery and leave out the inorganics”).
In fairly short order Ling becomes sexually involved with Zheng, and soon after that she is outside the floating gondola hacking one of the native “flying pancakes” to death with a machete, a First Contact situation gone badly wrong. When they are almost overwhelmed by pancakes responding to the killing, Gabriel fires the rocket motors. This saves them but they lose a lot of their attached life support equipment.
At this point (spoiler) the story then morphs from a sex-with-AIs/First Contact tale into a Climate Change one, where Gabriel theorises that Venus was once like Earth but suffered from a huge runaway greenhouse effect. Then, when the crew are ordered home (they cannot survive for very long in their diminished state), Ling suggests that Zheng is sent back digitally to Earth, she take the one-man emergency pod, and Gabriel remains to do vital work on his theory. This solution is not accepted by mission control, and Ling gets a message from her Navy handlers on a secret backchannel—then, when Ling and Gabriel subsequently go outside on a routine EVA to remove the pancakes from the gondola, Ling stabs Gabriel with the machete and throws his body into the Venusian atmosphere, while making radio calls that suggest that AI Zheng has jumped.
Ling later goes home in the pod, while Zheng stays on the gondola impersonating Gabriel and doing his work (apparently Zheng couldn’t have been left behind on its own for political reasons).
Things slowly improve on Earth, although the similarity between the global warming effects on the two planets are never made public.
This story didn’t work for me for a number of reasons: first, I didn’t buy the Navy pilot as assassin malarkey (being able to drop a bomb on someone doesn’t qualify you as a close-quarters killer); second, this kitchen sink story can’t seem to decide whether it is about AI, planetary exploration, first contact, or climate change; third, the internal logic of the story does not convince (the political background is sketchy to say the least and, at one point, Zheng cryptically states it won’t be able to help Ling as it is “Asimov’ed” and “can’t kill Gabriel”. Obviously not that Asimov’ed, because colluding in Ling’s killing of Gabriel is an obvious First Law violation.
This is a bit of a mess.
* (Mediocre). 7,500 words.

Jessica Ann by F. E. Ellwood

Posted on by Paul Fraser

Jessica Ann by F. E. Ellwood (Argosy (UK), July 1955) introduces us to Ely, an apothecary to the seven witches in his area, and a man who is who is tempted by Jessica, a young witch who has recently arrived in the area and who suggests that they do away with the others. Ely agonises about the matter:

Ely looked at her solemnly. Her cheeks were pink, and her eyes were, after all, brighter than the speedwells . . .
“And old Mother Peasgood,” said Jessica. “She cured Margie Boss’s baby of her hacking cough o’ nights, and then she saw their little dog. She gave it one look out of her evil eye and it started to run backwards, and backwards-way forwards it’s been ever since. Now why, Ely, why?”
“The sabbath,” said Ely absently. “They beat them.”
“They?” said Jessica.
“The demons,” said Ely, “at the Meeting. They beat the witches who cure the coughs and charm the warts. The ones who do the mischief, now, they’re all right. But the ones who like a bit of both, like ours, they have to be careful. They daren’t not touch the goat if they’ve done something they’re going to be ashamed of. Things like mending young Tom’s back or giving the mixture for Margie Boss’s baby’s cough.”
[. . .]
“Think of it, Ely,” said Jessica, encouraged. “The medicines for the sick and the poor. The secret recipes of the witches. We could burn the wicked ones, Ely. Just the two of us and no more of the witching. And we could be married, Ely. In the church, with a real wedding, and Parson saying words over us. Think of it now, Ely.”
“Yes . . .” said Ely, and he stopped, aghast. Reforming zeal and the lengths to which the zeal will go were new to Ely. He looked at Jessica anxiously, but she was still the same Jessica, and still very beautiful.  p. 103

Of course (spoiler), after Ely poisons the other witches he finds that Jessica is no better than they were and, after some more agonising, decides if you can’t beat them, join them. He picks up a copy of Sorcerie for Ye Verie Begynner, and she takes down his Apothecary sign.
Minor but okay.
** (Average). 3,050 words.

Mahoussian Beast by Jacques Perret

Posted on by Paul Fraser

Mahoussian Beast by Jacques Perret, translated by D. H. R. Brearley (Argosy (UK), July 1955), is a story from the 1951 Prix Interallié winner that starts with a small boy called Leon walking beside a marsh where a legendary beast lives. He subsequently arrives home late, whereupon his uncle scolds him and sets him to his homework. Eventually, Leon tells his uncle Emile that he was detained by the beast in the marsh, which, from his description, appears to be a female dragon. Leon also passes along her complaint about the drainage works that are going on at the marsh. Emile is initially disbelieving, but Leon passes on other details about the dragon, and also mentions that it intends to disrupt the Prefect’s forthcoming visit to the site.
Emile later finds a footprint and droppings in the marsh, and so goes to see the Mayor. The latter doesn’t believe what he is told but, after talking to the boy, agrees to go and meet the dragon. During their subsequent encounter the dragon displays its fire breathing capabilities—but the Mayor doesn’t seem much impressed, so the dragon decides to leave the marsh.
The last part of the story sees Leon accompany the dragon on her journey and, when they get to the Seine, the boy rides the dragon as its swims along the river. Eventually, after some minor adventures (at one point the dragon takes part in a fireworks display), she reaches the sea and disappears (although there is a suggestion at the end of the story that she has metamorphosed into a butterfly).
This is a pleasant enough piece, but it’s essentially a plotless, wandering piece of whimsy (why set up the conflict between the dragon and the town’s politicians if she is just going to wander off?)
** (Average). 8,750 words.