"Fire and Ash" by M. Thomas                
"Ashes" by J.W. Anderson                          

This special edition chapbook was put together because the stories inside were somehow mangled in the Fall 2005 issue (#62) of On Spec.  The fact that both stories have to do with ashes in some way has nothing to do with its publication.  In a field that is rife with editorial gaffes—intentional and otherwise—where no one admits fault, this chapbook is a testament to the superior ethics of our Canadian Overlords.

In "Fire and Ash," M. Thomas enters Bradbury country to paint a frightening portrait of a totalitarian government and book eating.  In the strange city of Majole, which lies at the center of a dead fish, Rubain, the member of a continually unsuccessful revolution, has put himself in charge of all the books, which are restricted. Lacking food, he takes to eating them, and imagines their words fill him up with their knowledge and wonder.  But the story takes a real turn for the bizarre when he is captured and burned alive for his crimes against the government.  It’s true what they say.  You are what you eat.

This is a beautiful, finely written tale, and well worth a read.

In "Ashes," J.W. Anderson takes us into a shadowy world of secret agents and alien conspiracies. Zachariah has set up a meeting in his favorite bar with someone who is secretly a member of an alien race that is responsible for all the failed probes we’ve launched to Mars.  He wants the alien to bypass their quarantine and deliver the ashes of his friend, Sam, to Mars.  In return, Zachariah will hand over all the information his secretive Agency has on the aliens.  It seems like a silly boyhood fantasy, but Zachariah is bent on making his dead friend’s dream come true, even if it means risking his life and the security of his planet.

Will the alien carry out Sam’s final wish? Will the Agency and the aliens kill Zachariah?  We’re left hanging a bit, but Anderson’s deft prose leaves us thinking about Zachariah and Sam’s friendship rather than pondering his fate.

This is a powerful, beautiful piece, and one of the best small press tales I’ve read in a long time.