Abyss & Apex, #24, 4th Quarter 2007

Issue #24 of Abyss & Apex is a solid one. One of the underlying themes in all the stories is how we do—or in some cases don’t—use technology. The stories run towards the science fiction end of the speculative fiction spectrum but do make room for both the everyday and the magical. I can’t say I completely enjoyed everything, but I definitely found a lot of merit and imagine you will as well.

Tony Pi has composed an elegant, multilayered tale in “Metamorphoses in Amber.” Jewel thief Felix Lea is one of a small group of humans—the Elect, named after the Greek word for amber: electron—with the ability to tap into the lightning inside amber, shedding his body like a cicada sheds its shell. In the middle of waging his centuries-long war against nemesis Mantis, Felix contracts a debilitating disease, one which will ultimately change him from male to female. Only the help of longtime friend and lover, Spider, and the aid of his hated enemy might he be able to halt a transformation that is not only permanent, but dreaded.

The action in “Metamorphoses in Amber” never lets up, and the plot advances at a fast clip without sacrificing details. But the strongest feature of this work is the themes that Pi has interwoven; he touches upon gender, and what it means to be male or female, and what it means to stay true to yourself and your purpose while staying flexible enough to survive the fluctuations that occur with time.

Pi also incorporates colorful characters from the past, both real and imagined. I have a weakness for such stories because they bring people I’ve only imagined vividly to life. References to the Sheriff of Nottingham, Little John, Nefertiti, Helen of Troy, Guinevere, and Machiavelli call to mind deeds and character traits that help shape a reader’s idea of who these new characters are supposed to be and whet the appetite for the twist and turns to come. Felix, who starts out a bit too glib and idealistic, seems one-dimensional at first, but sheds his layers to reveal that he is just as complex as a fly caught in amber.

I really loved this story. The characterization and the descriptive language worked especially well. When Pi works in the phrase: “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic,” I knew that “Metamorphoses in Amber” was going to keep me engaged.

In the aptly titled “Looking Out For Number One” by Patrick Hudson, teleportation has become an everyday occurrence, and going from one planet to the next is just a momentary blip in someone’s day. However, traveling salesman Barney Chip has developed an aversion to this seemingly perfect mode of transportation. He gets nauseous and breaks out in a cold sweat just thinking about it.

This story covers a lot of ground, taking a swing at technology and the lengths to which big business/government will go to both “satisfy” and control the populace. Barney Chip seems like the perfect foil for the events that unfold, and Hudson has crafted an ambiguous but fitting ending. Unfortunately, there is a lot of exposition and pseudo-political babble between Hudson’s beginning and ending. There are entire passages I had to read two or three times, not because they were complex or compelling, but because I found them tedious to get through. Additionally, the story cuts back and forth between Earth and Venus numerous times before it becomes clear what’s happening. A savvy reader will probably have a strong inkling of what’s going on before it gets clearly outlined, but I still found the technique irksome. Nevertheless, Hudson does have a way with words; the way he describes simple things can be quite beautiful. My advice: read “Looking Out For Number One” for the ideas and the language.

In Frank Wu’s “Love and Death in the Time of Monsters,” a Godzilla-like monster rises from the depths of the Atlantic Ocean to destroy Manhattan, then goes rampaging along the Eastern Seaboard while the protagonist’s mother is simultaneously overtaken by lung cancer. The subject matter is dire stuff indeed, and it would be easy to dismiss or gloss over. Don’t. There’s a lot to be found in “Love and Death” which is a compelling story for a multitude of reasons.

Wu details well his protagonist’s helplessness and despair in the face of events he can do nothing about. His plight is keenly drawn without ever seeming maudlin or overly dramatic. Readers experience the nightmare of watching a loved one’s slow decline while sharing the protagonist’s realization that in some way he directly contributed to it. And even though we never learn the protagonist’s name, by the end, he has passed though our world and made a lasting impression. Then there’s the monster, the embodiment of our most paranoid delusions about the havoc science and technology have wreaked upon the environment. There are also sweeter notes in Wu’s unfolding drama: the protagonist’s interaction with his wife, Janie; his desire to keep things going no matter what; and especially, loving his mom in spite of her abuse. These interludes balance the story just enough to keep it from becoming too gloomy, keeping it real.

Like the rest of “Love and Death,” the ending is bittersweet, showing that everything is cyclic and that all actions have consequences, intended or not. Wu has crafted an elegant little gem that’s a lot like eating Smarties or Sweet Tarts. You know the tartness will linger, but there’s just enough sugary goodness to keep you eating, or in this case, reading. Highly recommended.

As an Internet junkie, I saw a glimpse of what the future could hold in “Under the Blue Curve.” Mark A. Rayner has obviously given some thought to how the web and advances in technology have made it easy to get almost everything we need or want without having to interact with another human being. If things continue in this manner, in some not-so-distant future, we may be able to get everything without even connecting to our bodies. A terrifying notion.

Henry Overduin seems like a less-than-ordinary guy with a dead-end job in a future where people are using technology to experience amazing things. But sometimes ordinary is really extraordinary, from the right perspective. Henry has something technology can’t provide, a vivid imagination.

Enter Elisa, the girl of Henry’s dreams. She doesn’t mind his handicap; she thinks Henry is cool, and she loves his stories—so much so that she starts selling them to a populace hungry for something they no longer have. Henry and Elisa become rich but grow apart as she delves deeper and deeper into the datasphere. Even though they share the same space, they inhabit totally different worlds. The disintegration of Henry’s relationship with Elisa is really a new beginning. He begins to explore new worlds and learn what it really means to connect with other human beings. Raynor has crafted an engaging story that explores what it means to be human and why we still need each other in ways no amount of technology can replace.

Desmond Warzel has his tongue firmly lodged in his cheek in “Wikihistory.” While reading this flash piece, every surreal experience I’ve ever had in an online discussion group came back to haunt me with a vengeance. Anyone who spends enough time on the Internet will encounter a “SilverFox316,” someone who just doesn’t know a good thing when it happens, or a “BarracksRoomLawyer,” someone who only cares about the rules, only the rules, and nothing but the rules. And “AsianAvenger” and “FreedomFighter69″ will resonate with anyone who has thought we needed (and had the capacity) to save the world. The absurdity of the chat room situation will make you shake your head, but it’s the commonalities—the things (or in this case the people) that never seem to change—that will make you laugh and that make “Wikihistory” a really fun read.