Abyss & Apex, #25, 1st Quarter 2008

Issue #25 of Abyss & Apex leans toward the melancholy. Even so, the five stories that comprise the current issue are filled with thought provoking ideas that should ultimately leave the reader in a thoughtful, but far from sad, mood.

“Snatch Me Another” by Mercurio D. Rivera is set in a reality not unlike ours—but with one major difference—and tells of Lindy and her family. Lindy avoids spending time with her son, Tommy, even on his birthday, and she’s not just avoiding him, but also the home she shares with him and his other mommy, Kristina. Lindy sits in her truck getting hopped up on canned bliss. Initially, readers might think they’ve wandered into a woman’s midlife crisis, or they might get the impression that Lindy is simply a bad mom. Neither is true, Lindy’s life has been turned upside down by an illegal piece of technology, a snatcher, which allows its user to grab just about anything they might need or want from an alternate reality.

Rivera’s world is much like ours, and Lindy and Kristina’s story could be my story or yours. The thought provoking premise behind “Snatch Me Another” and the excellent characterization move things forward. The key plot elements are fairly heart wrenching, and the characters’ motivations are easy to empathize with, making the events that unfold that much more horrifying. Readers really get a sense of Lindy’s feelings of despair and hopelessness and Kristina’s apparent slide into madness. One feels how Lindy’s grief has led to her depression and her sense of numb acquiescence. I hope that I would take a different path than that of either woman, but who knows what I might do if I were faced with such difficult circumstances.

I didn’t quite know what to make of “Snatch Me Another.” On one hand, it’s a sobering walk down one of the paths technology could lead us to. On the other, it’s a melancholy tale of loss and the lengths to which people will go for happiness, or in this case, the illusion of happiness. I can’t say I liked “Snatch Me Another,” but I loved the way it made me think—which is, ultimately, what good stories do.

In “If Tears Were Wishes” by Ruth Nestvold, Brooke and Crystal Morey’s tears have the power to grant wishes. On the hippie commune where they spent their childhood, it was just another part of everyday life. In their new life in town and in high school, it goes unnoticed until a story in the local media brings it to light and suddenly turns their gift into an opportunity for others. When Brooke is kidnapped, Crystal knows in her heart the police can’t help, so she springs into action to get her sister back and evade the same outcome for herself. It’s a cruel twist of fate that the very thing that sets them apart from the rest of the world doesn’t work for them and can’t be relied on in a time of crisis.

From the start, Crystal is someone to root for. I enjoyed the way she delved right in and had enough self-realization to know she would have to push herself to the limit. These days, many speculative fiction stories feature female characters that can kick all kinds of butt, but, in the end, don’t have much common sense. Crystal capitalizes on her strengths and enlists help when she feels she needs it. For those reasons alone, “If Tears Were Wishes” is an excellent read. That it’s also well written and a bit different is a wonderful bonus.

In “Healer” by Phil Margolies, Michael has a special gift, the power to heal the dying, but only at the cost of someone else’s life—making him savior and judge, jury, and executioner all in one fell swoop. At first, he denies his power but then embraces it. Still, sometimes it’s hard to play God. When Michael gets mugged on his way to save a dying child, he is reminded of the heavy responsibility he has taken upon himself. When he encounters the same young man who mugged him in very different circumstances, he has to decide who has the right to live and who should die.

This is heady stuff, and Margolies handles it competently. He makes Michael’s inner turmoil seem very real and backs up Michaels beliefs with flashbacks from his past. I wanted to know more about how Michael came to be chosen, but that’s another story. “Healer” is bittersweet but definitely worth the read.

“At Blue Crane Falls” by Brian Dolton is another tale of loss. Yi Qin is on the Emperor’s business, returning to give her report and find out where her next assignment—banishing an unwelcome ghost or vanquishing a troublesome demon—might be. She gets sidetracked when she stops in the town of Hanyu for lunch and is told not to take the left path to cross Zhou River because it’s haunted. Of course, that means she has to take the left path as dealing with hauntings is her business.

Yi Qin finds out what has become of what once must have been a beautiful shrine and how it got that way. The spirit she meets there is nothing like she expected, and the course she ends up taking is far from typical.

Dolton weaves in enough magic and Chinese history/legend to keep things interesting. Yi Qin is fearless and resolved to do her duty. I kept picturing an earlier incarnation of Buffy the Vampire Slayer a la Sarah Michelle Gellar. I thoroughly enjoyed “At Blue Crane Falls,” and I also really liked its predecessor, “The Man Who Was Never Afraid,” which appeared in issue #20 of Abyss & Apex.

“Quartet, With Mermaids” by Alan Smale looks at what might happen when a legendary creature turns out to be real. When seafarer McDowell discovers a mermaid on his seal hunting expedition, it seems like his ship has finally come in. But one man’s meal ticket is another man’s marvel is another man’s…well, you get the idea. It’s something different for everyone. Smale uses a quartet of connected stories, with interludes, to ask what discovery really means for the mermaid (or any other imaginary creature).

Telling the mermaid’s story through other people’s eyes shows readers how the protagonists are motivated by their own fears and interests, and we never get to know what the mermaids feel like. (Shannara, the mermaid trapped in a sea park in part two, comes closest, but even then much is left to the imagination.) Even Kemp, the sympathetic protagonist of part three, and Curran, the outraged protagonist of part four, don’t make up for the overall tone of the piece.

I want to say I liked “Quartet, With Mermaids,” as it’s very well written, but I didn’t. I found it to be thoroughly unpleasant from beginning to end, in part because of my outrage at the mermaids’ fates (again, very well written). Other readers might have an entirely different reaction, though.