Analog, July/August 2023
“The Jangler” by Wil McCarthy
“The World in a Ramen Cup” by Jayde Holmes
“Didicosm” by Greg Egan
“Nebulous Negotiation” by James Dick & Jen Frankel
“Playtime” by A.T. Sayre
“First Words” by Michael Randle
“The Queen of Copies Meets Her Match” by Carrie Vaughn
“A Synthetic’s Field Notes on Speed Dating and Birds” by Ryan Hunke
“The Carina Nebula” by Kelsey Hutton
“Blowout” by Wole Talabi
“Recruit” by Stephen L. Burns
“Everybody Needs a Conditions Box” by David Ebenbach
“Here at the Freezing End” by Benjamin C. Kinney
“Fermi’s Silence” by Jay Werkheiser
“Gin and Rummy” by Eneasz Brodski
“From Our Bones a Garden Grows” by Will Gwaun
“Skin Job” by Gregor Hartmann
“The Martian Miracle” by J.W. Benford
“To Fight the Colossus” by Adam-Troy Castro
Reviewed by Mike Bickerdike
“The Jangler” by Wil McCarthy is a well-written novelette on the themes of mental health and the importance of hope in war veterans. The ‘jangler’ of the title is an experimental, cranial medical device that detects forthcoming strong emotions and mental conflicts. Offering the user the opportunity to accept or decline the emotion, it is a potential treatment for PTSD. The protagonist, a likeable but troubled veteran who suffers from his war memories, takes part in a clinical trial of the device. The story is effective, convinces in its SF speculations and deals with the issue of PTSD in veterans in a sensitive manner. It would probably be churlish to criticise some incorrect pharmacology at the start of the story as the tale generally deals well with the subject matter and is likely to appeal to many.
“The World in a Ramen Cup” by Jayde Holmes is an impressive short story, as it drops us straight into an alien situation without preamble, yet manages to avoid being confusing, revealing just enough about what is going on to satisfy the reader without getting bogged down in exposition. The ‘Last Human’ is aboard an alien craft or space station, and shares Ramen noodles from Earth with an alien, who generates value and memory from the act of eating. The story has a good deal to say about the value of the commonplace, and how we take simple things for granted, when more than is immediately apparent may underpin them. It’s rather good and is recommended reading.
“Didicosm” by Greg Egan is somewhat unusual as an SF short story, because while it is technically a story, it is more a speculation on whether Hantzsche–Wendt manifolds apply in cosmological topology, through which we might define the shape of the universe. And if that brief summary left you cold, or confused, you’re likely to be in a majority. There is a story here, but it is rather weak, and serves only as a vehicle to provide a lay explanation of the different manifold topologies of Euclidean 3-space—a somewhat impenetrable subject for those of us who who lack a higher degree in theoretical physics or the relevant mathematics.
“Nebulous Negotiation” by James Dick & Jen Frankel presents an interesting premise, though I’m not sure that the tale works through the concept in an entirely satisfactory way. Humans on a station (or ship) in deep space represent only one of a number of species under the authority of a draconian ruling species. If humans act in a manner typical of their species (bullish and stubborn) they face mortal peril. A human representative seeks to negotiate for improved conditions for her race. I liked the social positioning of humanity as a ‘lessor’ race here, though I didn’t feel the conclusion fully satisfied… which may have been the point.
“Playtime” by A.T. Sayre is quite an appealing short satire. Playtime Ltd offers virtual reality environments and programming as entertainments and education for young children. With the company acting ostensibly as glorified high-tech childminders, the story explores the worries of present day parents regarding the screen-fixation of their children, which may be divorcing them from the realities of the actual world. However, although it is quite thoughtful, the tale seems to lack impact and ends a little too quietly.
“First Words” by Michael Randle is a short story with a simple concept; what words should the first human to step on the planet Mars say? An astronaut mulls it over all the way to the Red Planet and is offered sensible and humorous ideas by his fellow astronauts. It’s well-written and well-constructed, though there is not an awful lot to it. His final choice is quite satisfying, however.
“The Queen of Copies Meets Her Match” by Carrie Vaughn is flash fiction, in which Vaughn imagines her photocopier has AI capabilities, which it evokes much to her annoyance. It’s rather fun.
“A Synthetic’s Field Notes on Speed Dating and Birds” by Ryan Hunke describes the speed-dating experiences of an ex-miliary hardware robot. With technical strike capabilities turned off, the robot is lonely and seeks companionship by making new human connections at a speed-dating event. While the premise sounds jokey, the story is played very straight, seemingly with the aim of achieving pathos, rather than laughs. Though well-written, it’s not entirely successful as we are given little reason to care much for the machine, and it doesn’t really compare well to classics on the theme of the sad robot (such as Simak’s “I am Crying all Inside”).
“The Carina Nebula” by Kelsey Hutton is rather uninspired SF, and unfortunately presents its themes in a clumsy, unconvincing way. The story is told from the perspective of a teenage girl on a generation spaceship. The girl has grown up on the ship but seems no different to any present day girl who’s grown up on Earth. There’s no spin-induced gravity on the ship; do the inhabitants float in zero-G, year after year? And in deep space, with a fixed adult population, employees can lose their jobs (or, indeed, ‘more than just their jobs’, whatever that may mean). It’s a shame, but little of the story rings true or makes a lot of sense. We are treated to descriptions of what everyone is wearing, and how the girl wears her hair, but such details do not compensate for the story’s shortcomings. The plot develops from the girl’s discovery of an onboard piece of art of the Carina nebula, made of tiny beads in a traditional native-American style, and explores her relationship with her absent father.
“Blowout” by Wole Talabi follows a rather tired, well-worn formula, describing a mining disaster and rescue attempt on Mars. The sibling of someone who may be lost to misfortune takes charge of a rescue attempt, with entirely predictable results. Regular readers of short SF will have come across this sort of disaster rescue story many times before, and in truth it adds nothing new to the trope. As well as adhering to a formulaic plot, the writing is also rather clunky, with too much unnecessary description and an excessive backstory that impairs the story’s pace and the reader’s engagement with the rescue itself.
“Recruit” by Stephen L. Burns is a novelette that follows the training and testing of five new recruits in a shadowy organisation of unclear purpose. The recruits are effectively kidnapped to join the program, given no explanation of what is going on, and treated with off-hand disdain. However, all but one of the recruits seems fine with this. One recruit expresses annoyance at his treatment, and the reader is invited to consider this man unreasonable and childish. Except he’s not—he’s the only character who behaves as any normal person would in their situation. No other character rings true, the main protagonist is ‘perfect’, thin and unbelievable, and the story falls flat largely through incredulity at the situation and the ultimate outcome. Overall, this is rather a weak story that frustrated this reader more than it entertained.
“Everybody Needs a Conditions Box” by David Ebenbach has quite a neat little psychological idea at its core. It wouldn’t be possible to expand on the idea, without spoiling the plot, but it does help save the story to a degree. The Venus habitat where the story is set, and the appointment of the young staff who run it, both seem rather unlikely. The tale could have developed an interesting theme on the folly of technological development for the sake of it, and this reviewer thought that is where the tale was going initially. However, rather than explore this theme further, the protagonist boots up a new AI to run the city—again, seemingly ‘because she can’, not because it’s necessary—and only then discovers she’s created a further problem. We therefore have a plot where the clever SF solution wouldn’t have been required if it weren’t for folly on top of further folly, and the story lacks much discussion of human culpability. This makes the scenario seem forced to enable the solution, which is perhaps the short story equivalent of the tail wagging the dog.
“Here at the Freezing End” by Benjamin C. Kinney is quite an effective short story. Set on a far-flung frigid world during interstellar wartime, a small group of humans trek to the crashed shuttle of an unknown faction to plunder it for supplies. The tale is well-told and conveys the wintry world with effective imagery. The decisions and dilemmas of the protagonists are subtly handled, making this a better story than some tales in this issue of Analog.
“Fermi’s Silence” by Jay Werkheiser explores the definition of life and intelligence, asking whether we would even recognise extra-terrestrial life. It’s an interesting notion, but the idea is exemplified four times with essentially the same scenario repeating. While the point the author makes is an intriguing one, this may be a rare case where it would benefit from being cut back to a flash fiction treatment, with just one good example. As it is, the story becomes rather repetitious, weakening the impact.
“Gin and Rummy” by Eneasz Brodski is an enjoyable and well-constructed short story. In a slightly bleak looking future, a junkyard owner lives on his own beside his great mounds of electronic junk. When his house AI alerts him to a scavenger, he finds a robot looking for supplies. It’s a quiet little tale that manages to portray the suggestion of a dystopian future, while also offering a sense of hope and humanity within the maudlin backdrop. It’s successful and well-crafted, and although only a few pages in length, is recommended reading.
“From Our Bones a Garden Grows” by Will Gwaun is flash fiction. Following an alien attack on a fleet of human ships, the sole survivors of the human race face likely extinction on the two remaining warships. The tale follows the thoughts and plans of one of the ships, which has the sentience to consider the value of life and its instincts. It’s a decent enough idea, though it’s not really given sufficient room here to breathe and really satisfy.
“Skin Job” by Gregor Hartmann is a thoughtful and successful SF story, in which gene editing treatments can be bought over the internet that will change skin pigmentation. Several high school kids obtain treatments over the internet during summer break and return to school with their new skin tones. The story explores how institutional structures make personal choices difficult and makes some insightful comments on the subject of individual choice versus social pressures. The kids want to demonstrate the importance of skin colour per se, but face roadblocks from rigid institutional rules which, ironically, were set up to avoid discrimination. It’s also a well-told and engaging read, so it is recommended.
“The Martian Miracle” by J.W. Benford is a short story set in a corporate colony on Mars. When a terraforming expert gets pregnant—against all odds—the mother and father have to face up to the serious consequences of their predicament, and the ire of the corporation boss, who sees only problems and unbudgeted costs on the horizon. It’s quite well delivered as a tale, although the lead characters (especially the father) seem rather clueless and unaware of the consequences until they’re pointed out. This seems unlikely given the calibre of individual who would doubtless be selected to work on a Martian colony.
“To Fight the Colossus” by Adam-Troy Castro is a very grim novella, cold in tone, and probably qualifies as SF horror. The story raises a question about the appeal of SF stories: does there need to be a sympathetic character in a tale for it to have appeal? This enquiry is pertinent to Castro’s novella, as the main protagonist is a genocidal warmonger who thirsts for violence, and we don’t naturally side with him. He is recruited by a deeply unpleasant man with a similar violent background who seeks the ‘Silent Colossus of Parnajan’. This man—who seems to hate our recruit and tries to kill him on several occasions—has recruited two others to his cause; a psychopathic alien and an unapproachable human woman who is a pet to an AI entity. The protagonist is warned against working with these people (unsurprisingly) but continues to do as he cannot refuse his strong urge for conflict and killing. Their specific goal is kept secret for much of the novella but is revealed toward the end. The ultimate concept, though challenging our disbelief, is however both novel and memorable. Few who read this story will quickly forget it, which should certainly be to its credit. However, with no characters to root for and an incredibly bleak future backdrop, the story struggles to appeal. The stakes are so high at the end that one roots for a certain outcome and engages with the story in spite of the cast of characters. However, until this point the story is likely to be too bleak, cynical and unpleasant for many.
More of Mike Bickerdike’s reviews and thoughts on science-fiction can be found at https://starfarersf.nicepage.io/