Fiction:
"Return of the Native" by Mark Anthony Brennan
"Ecdysis" by Lee Battersby
"A Wall of Brass" by John Borneman
"My Father's New Wife" by Shauna Roberts
"Edifice" by Rick Jankowski
"The Facts of Dr Van Helsing's Case" by Stephen Dedman
"Tangled" by Martin Livings
"Corpus Christi" by Dirk Flinthart
"Hamlyn" by Paul Haines
"Time in a Rice Bowl" by Rick Kennett
"Pregnant" by Barbara Robson

Poetry:
"An Alien Abductee Asks the Questions" by John Grey

Special Features:
"A Peek at a Portfolio" Miranda Siemienowicz

Regular Features:
Reviews by various
Interview of Kim Wilkins, Robert Hood, Stephen Dedman, and Terry Dowling by Lee Battersby
"Confessions of a Fantasist" by Hannah Strom-Martin
Interview of Greg Bear by Byron Merritt Letters

This was my first read or review of Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine, which purports to be "Australia's PULPIEST Science Fiction and Fantasy Magazine." Dictionary.com defines pulp as a publication containing lurid (shocking or gruesome) subject matter, but I found only a little content that I considered "lurid." In my opinion, the February/March (#11) issue contains only one truly great story, and one that is both great and disturbing, but there are some others that might be worth the read to some readers. I noticed a few more editing errors in ASIM than I find in magazines like Realms of Fantasy or Asimov's, but not an unbearable number of errors (as I found in Absolute Magnitude). ASIM contained many stories, more than the afore-mentioned competitors, so I'd best waste no more time before getting to them.

In "Return of the Native" by Mark Anthony Brennan, I felt the author did a good job of capturing the harsh, desolate beauty of a far-future Earth, but the epiphany of his story, if any was intended, was lost on me. I enjoyed passages like: "There were a few more trees here, like the bakka wood with its oversized gray leaves that wafted like ragged sails on a red sea. Or the durba whose hollow trunks moaned achingly as the breeze whistled through them." I've heard such passages referred to as "eyeball kicks" because of the vivid flash of imagery a reader gets from them. Brennan used passages like this to engage the reader's senses of sight, hearing, and touch, and it is that aspect of the story that I enjoyed. However, Brennan's descriptive writing alone is not sufficient to completely salvage a story that, to me, seemed to lack a revelatory epiphany or some similar moment of truth where the reader is transformed or affected in some way by the story. It seemed ironic to me that a story in which the main character was totally transformed had no such affect on me; perhaps it was because Brennan seemed to make no effort to attach the reader to the character. Regardless, Brennan's skillful description kept the story from feeling like a total waste of time.

Lee Battersby began his fantasy/sci-fi detective noir post-collapse short "Ecdysis" with a solid first paragraph, tilting the reader into the tale immediately, and continued to write effective sentences throughout the story, allowing intelligent readers to infer a great deal about the setting rather than telling them outright. But Battersby stumbled slightly on plot consistency and believability where Marcus, the main character, claims to be nice to everybody, yet snaps at the Uniforms assisting him. If Marcus continued to act in that contradictory fashion we could assume he was written as an unreliable narrator, but there is only the one occurrence, which merely looks sloppy and affects suspension of disbelief. I also felt it was unlikely that the bum/expert Vincent so easily identifies coins that stymie police analysts, and that "Mister Exis'" recent residence in the bum bay (another improbably location) seemed all too convenient. Detective noir seems so overdone to me that I can only enjoy it when it really smolders. Dialog has to pop, draw me in, and help me suspend my disbelief. The setting needs to reflect the theme, and characters should be intriguing and dynamic (difficult to do while forced to use the stereotypes of tough, cynical archetypes in the noir mold). Tough guy Marcus failed to interest or enlighten me, and the transformation of "Mister Exis" did not seem to appreciably affect any of the other characters on a meaningful level. It seemed a shame to me that a great sentence crafter like Battersby was unable to give this short the lingering quality that marks the best fiction. Battersby's last sentence is good, and prophetic. "If I had any dreams, I don't remember them." I probably won't remember "Ecdysis" for long, either.

Sadly, John Borneman's story "A Wall of Brass" was published with several editing errors, including at least one in the first sentence. Early editing errors tend to turn off many readers, myself included, but I soldiered on to discover an interesting, if unlikely, tale with a poignant ending. Borneman carefully engaged my senses to make the island of Aku come alive. Amid the scent of cinnamon flowers and the taste of a fruity wine with a hint of smoke, I began to explore Aku's unique culture (where big bellies are better!) just in time for a tragic assault that threatened the survival of the post-apocalyptic humans and their robotic servants. Borneman crafted a few weak sentences, and tended to use a passive structure too often for my taste, but he redeemed his story somewhat with his exploration of themes of sacrifice. Even though I felt the plot device that prompted the final solution seemed a bit forced, I enjoyed the last three paragraphs, whose impact lingered longer than that of the first stories in this issue.

"My Father's New Wife" by Shauna Roberts was a rollicking-good read full of clever writing and humor both subtle and overt. This is the only un-controversially truly great story in this magazine. It's not often that science fiction tales can pull off comedy so seamlessly, and this story does it in spades while at the same time offering a useful look at human nature. Shauna Roberts is FABULOUS, and I will eagerly look for other work from her gifted pen. I'm still laughing as I think about the last three paragraphs. Absolutely delightful!

John Grey's poem, "An Alien Abductee Asks the Question," was a good one; a fun exercise in words for those of us who like to play with them. The very short "The Edifice" by Rick Jankowski offered a bit of a chuckle. I suspect religious folk would decry this short as sacrilegious, but I enjoy stories that poke fun at religion and consumerism, and this one does so gently and in one fell swoop.

"The Facts of Dr Van Helsing's Case" by Stephen Dedman is a chilling and well-written condemnation of the theory that the ends justifies the means, as well as an examination of how a man can fall into the role of "righteous" murderer. Dedman cleverly opens, not with his own words, but with a sentence from a grandfather of terror, Edgar Allan Poe. Poe enchains the reader at once, and then Dedman takes over deftly, leaping from account to account, seemingly in an effort to keep the reader off balance and vulnerable to the messages to come. "Facts" merits close and careful reading, and I feel that extremists everywhere would do well to heed its message. While the story was solid, I felt the choppy layout kept it from being the best of the issue.

"Tangled" by Martin Livings seemed to me to be a not-so-subtle morality tale wherein human lies and entanglements manifest as supernatural webs that mete out justice to those deserving punishment. Livings' writing was technically good, but I found the subject matter uninspiring. For a short morality tale to be effective for me, I need to identify with or sympathize with (at least a little), the character undergoing conflict or change, even if that character is "a bad person." The protagonist, Bradwell, was drawn as a man with no redeeming qualities, and as a result of his one-dimensional depiction, I did not have any interest in his ultimate fate. That fate became apparent early in the tale due to Livings' heavy use of foreshadowing, and what little tension remained was wiped away by the inevitability of Bradwell's punishment. Livings writes some good sentences and opens strongly, but I feel the story was not crafted to create reader buy-in and is too predictable. Livings might do well to write a more complicated character without such a clear-cut fate in his next story.

"Corpus Christi" by Dirk Flinthart has a flawed beginning, but it redeems itself quickly, and in my opinion turns out to be a pretty good morality tale. I was turned off by Flinthart's choice to make some of protagonist Slade's internal dialog audible at the start. It seemed an amateurish mistake, and smacked of leading the reader by the nose. The section might have been an editing oversight (where quotation marks were inserted where not intended), but if not, then I think that with a bit more effort Flinthart could have smoothed that section. Once past that, the reader should quickly realize that this is another morality tale (like "Tangled"), as Flinthart wastes no time in showing us that Slade is a questionable character who is due some payback. Unlike in "Tangled," Slade does seem to have some redeeming qualities, which makes him much more interesting than Bradwell. Once the morality tale formula is in place, the story gets good. Three mysterious figures pronounce damnation with "the quality of a practiced litany, like the call-and-response of a deep-South Baptist service." Slade wheels and deals in an effort to stave off his seemingly inevitable fate. And in a moment that would make Flannery O'Connor proud, Slade experiences an epiphany, a revelation, that some readers will feel very reminiscent of the Southern Gothic writer. Flinthart's sinister setting, inspired dialog, and O'Connor-like ending combine to save this story from an awkward start, making "Corpus Christi" a morality tale worth reading.

The next story is the one that is both great and disturbing, as I mentioned above. Paul Haines' "Hamlyn" is, unsurprisingly, an interpretation of the old Pied Piper of Hamlyn tale. What is surprising is how daring Haines was with his changes. I have never seen a Hamlyn so sinister, or so twisted. Themes of child molestation and vampirism, lust and villainy abound in Haines' tale, and he manages to pull this off only because his writing is very, very good. Pace, word choice, and imagery are excellent. I felt the molestation theme was stomach turning, and definitely lurid, so consider this a fair warning. But passages like this made the story work for me: "A tall thin man stepped into the room clad in a pied cloak of ruby red and yellow sun… He smiled and with it came the scent of spring in the warmth of a lover's embrace… he spoke with a voice rich in the timbre of orchestras, a texture of honey for the ear… His accent betrayed hints of the older Europe, where the gypsy still held sway." "Hamlyn" abounds with such attractive lines, and so I was able to stomach the nasty bits (which were also well-written, but too gruesome to quote here).

Rick Kennett's "Time in a Rice Bowl" is an interesting story about Chinese death magic and familial trust. I enjoyed the way Kennett handled his spirits and ghosts, especially the way he described one as an impression that lurked in the corner of the eye, "a thing of contradiction made of light and hating the light." While Kennett stumbled, in my opinion, by never explaining Uncle Ernie's familiarity with the supernatural, and also by inserting Raissa, a decidedly unspectacular witch who seems more like an intruding writer than a valid character, the rest of the story is well-written and fascinating.

Barbara Robson's witch doctor story "Pregnant" is heavier than one might expect from its less-than-four pages. The poignancy of a woman in a biological and psychological panic, striving to conceive, is both touching and scary. I doubt a male author could have created some of the subtle touches as effectively. In my opinion, Robson's first published sale is well earned.

Deserving of honorable mention is a fantastic essay/bio by Hannah Strom-Martin, "Confessions of a Fantasist." Any speculative fiction writer will love it, and most readers should enjoy it as well. The theme, which revolves around clinging to one's dreams while established (and even well-meaning) authorities are trying to tear one away from those dreams, should resonate with almost anyone. Not only that, it was written better than almost any story in the magazine!

In my opinion, this issue of Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine had great potential, with most of the stories containing at least a seed of a good idea, and all containing some good writing. And there are a LOT of stories in this magazine, more than twice the amount in Aboriginal, for example. But many of the stories had flaws too severe to be considered great. A cover price of $7.95 seems a lot to pay for mediocrity. Roberts and Haines were both very good, and Dedman, Flinthart, Kennett, and Robson seem to have potential, but if I had a limited short fiction budget I would skip this magazine and buy Asimov's instead. Better yet, Internet-based SCIFICTION (edited by Ellen Datlow) stories are free, and tend to be better than any in this issue.