Apex #150, July/August 2025“My Song at the Conclave of Many Sorrows” by Daniel A. Oluremi
“A Rare and Exceptional Delicacy” by G. M. Mitchell
“Orion and His Moon” by J. S. Oriel
“Black Gold” by E. M. Kerkman
“What the Crab Apple Tree Near Miranda Spaceport Saw” by Elijah J. Mears
“Denizens of My Face” by Emil Morel
“Changeling” by Frey Lylark
“Moebius Syndrome” by Storm Humbert
“As Ephemeral as Bubbles” by Akis Linardos
“A Final Song for the Ages” by Pedro Iniguez (reprint, not reviewed)
“Mother Sun” by Amy Nagopaleen (reprint, not reviewed)
Reviewed by Victoria Silverwolf
The narrator of “My Song at the Conclave of Many Sorrows” by Daniel A. Oluremi becomes the ruler of her people at a very young age when her mother dies. Her grandmother takes her to visit the spirits that dwell in the forest. Many years later, when invaders raid her land, she goes back to the spirits to solicit their aid, paying a very high price for their help.
Unlike many works of epic fantasy, which are often based on medieval Europe, this one makes use of West African culture. For many readers, this will add freshness to its plot and setting. The spirits are particularly interesting. Although they are a source of supernatural power, they are also fearsome, contentious beings, openly insulting those who seek them out. The narrator’s sacrifice provides powerful emotional appeal, and the climax is appropriately dramatic.
In “A Rare and Exceptional Delicacy” by G. M. Mitchell, an archaeologist who is descended from ancient people who practiced cannibalism becomes obsessed with an artist. In particular, he wants to place his eyes in his mouth. When they finally meet in private, their encounter ends in an unexpected way.
The story’s theme of devouring parts of the body of a loved one is announced in the first sentence, so the reader is not surprised by most of what happens. The setting is, apparently, a completely imaginary world (there are references to things like the Northern Sector), but there are also touches of futuristic technology. The mixture of mainstream fiction (with a body horror premise), dark fantasy, and science fiction is not always a smooth one. The cannibalism is treated in a way that suggests romance and eroticism. The author’s elegant style avoids making this seem excessively gruesome.
The main character in “Orion and His Moon” by J. S. Oriel is a starship made up of many different components that are analogous to organs of the human body. It also has a semi-independent part with which it converses. The story involves their interaction as they investigate a human colony world that has grown silent.
This synopsis may suggest that the mystery of the colony is the most important aspect of the plot, but it actually plays very little part. Instead, the starship’s production of what it thinks of as offspring, part of its effort to reach the colony swiftly, is given much more attention. (In fact, the magazine supplies a content warning listing miscarriage and abortion, although no human being is involved.) The author does a good job describing things from the point of view of the starship, but the story is sometimes confusing.
All the characters in “Black Gold” by E. M. Kerkman are robots. The narrator is one of many who work at mining, bringing needed materials to automated factories that keep operating after humanity has died out. It spends time off in the deserted city of Reno, encountering various other robots.
There is no real plot, and the story can be read as a slice of life. It is clear that things are going to continue as they were at the beginning. The narrator has a goal, which is finding a copy of Homer’s Odyssey, but there is no indication that this will be fulfilled. The desert setting and the narrator’s fight with another robot in a bar that serves oil and gasoline suggest a parody of a Western, but there is no attempt at humor. As a result, some aspects of the story risk seeming ludicrous.
This issue’s section of new fiction ends with five stories that are no more than one thousand words long.
In “What the Crab Apple Tree Near Miranda Spaceport Saw” by Elijah J. Mears, the narrating tree witnesses two young men in love who have to leave their dying colony planet. It wonders if they will go together or remain apart. This is a sweet, gentle, sentimental tale that will appeal to romantics, but some readers may find the combination of science fiction and whimsical fantasy a bit silly.
The narrator of “Denizens of My Face” by Emil Morel is inhabited by multiple kinds of insects that provide her facial expressions. After she is killed, she describes the afterlife and looks down on Earth. As this synopsis indicates, the story consists of two very different halves, which readers are likely to find jarring.
In “Changeling” by Frey Lylark, some people produce rocks in their bodies, turning them into stony beings. A mother tries to cut the rocks out of her daughter’s flesh. Given the mother’s strong religious beliefs and her cruel way of trying to cure her daughter, the premise can be read as a metaphor for persons of faith attempting to convert members of the LGBTQ+ community. (The author’s self-description as genderqueer supports this reading.) As such, some may find it a heavy-handed allegory.
In “Moebius Syndrome” by Storm Humbert, a pair of time travelers are on a mission to inject James Baldwin, when he is a young boy, with a substance that will take away his ability to smile. It turns out that the two voyagers have very different agendas. The most interesting part of this story is the notion that smiling gave Baldwin and other African-American activists much of their power to change society, although that may strike many as questionable.
The narrator of “As Ephemeral as Bubbles” by Akis Linardos witnesses the sudden appearance of eyeless children blowing bubbles, followed by the vanishing of people and objects. There is not much more to this story than its surrealistic premise, which is slightly reminiscent of some of the ambiguity of reality found in the works of Philip K. Dick.
Victoria Silverwolf has read a fair amount of PKD.