Analog, December 2007

Analog’s December 2007 issue felt like a hat-tip to the more “golden age” themes of science fiction: eccentric aliens, self-thinking robots, and traveling back through time. These are the sorts of stories that can be fully associated with the genre, but without something to make them special, they can be considered a rather unoriginal walk down a beaten path. Luckily, a few of the shorts within are great examples of when a new look at an old idea becomes exceptional.

“Icarus Beach” by C. W. Johnson is all about extremes. About once or twice a century, a star, after it has fully ripened, becomes ready to explode. This event is considered extremely important to the people of the galaxy, so much so that devotees will descend into the explosion and ride the shockwave on their ships. Others will merely perish, this being an honorable way to die. Kazo meets up with a sibling-heavy family to practice for the next supernova, which involves history lessons, strict obedience on the state of their souls, and trial-and-error recreations. For Kazo, a young girl beaming with innocence, it’ll be a unique experience—tiring, horrendous, stressful, saddening, filled with the fresh start and quick ends of new relationships.

This is a fascinating achievement. An epic battle of love and understanding, where family customs put Kazo and Majnu at odds, “Icarus Beach” is beautifully written. The story is layered heavily, with the background drama pertaining to the ship’s ever-advancing progress towards the supernova Fenris while Kazo has her own problems to deal with, namely involving Majnu’s father. What unfolds is a captivating introspection of a society and the notion that such cataclysms should be interacted with and not just accepted. Richly imagined and well-told, Johnson’s work is certainly the story to read in Analog’s December 2007 issue, despite the vagueness at the end. Still, Apilak, the ship’s captain, sums everything up just fine in a heart-to-heart conversation with Kazo as they edge closer and closer to the bursting star: “Not everyone may know the ending of every story.”

“Kukulkan” by Sarah K. Castle is spelled two different ways: Kukulkan in the table of contents, and Kukulcan on its title page. I was going to offer a third suggestion, but assumed it would not be appreciated. Either way, the feathered snake god from Mayan mythology plays an important part as a means of communication with extraterrestrials. Pascual Teotalco is working towards his BS in astronomy when he’s invited to the Arecibo Radio Observatory as the third winner of Foundation’s latest contest. His work involves sending messages to the stars through a means of dots and counting. Unfortunately, many members of the committee feel that this idea is stupid—but they’ll quickly find out they’re wrong, because a new race of beings exists. And they’ve been listening.

Castle’s descriptions of her aliens reminded me greatly of the middle section of Isaac Asimov’s The Gods Themselves, their customs and behaviors foreign, their appeal fascinating. Everything is influenced by the Mayan deity, especially in how the aliens look, and the writing is authentic. The story is structured so it flips back and forth between Pascual and the Cheorka envoy sent to chat with the Earthlings. Of these two, the alien sections are much more interesting. “Kukulkan” takes some time to get started, but once first contact is made and people start running for their lives, I found it hard to stop reading.

In “Anything Would be Worth It” by Lesley L. Smith, Abigail is hanging out in a coffee shop reading articles on high-energy physics when she is approached by a young mother and her two daughters. The young mother, Sophia, is in desperate need of a tutor since she’s having trouble understanding quantum mechanics while attending grad school. But just seeing the two bubbly girls brings back a wave of emotions for Abigail, having lost her family one year prior to a horrible car accident. Before they can get the details squared away, another accident is in the making, one that will seemingly give Abigail the chance to save her family, but at a sacrifice.

Time-traveling stories are problematic. Smith’s handle on the bending of time and space is rather dismissive, with just a scrunch of Abigail’s brain and poof, she’s back home on that disastrous night that everything went wrong. Kind of like Hiro’s ability in Heroes, but less cinematic. From there, she meets herself and her loved ones. I’m not sure who reacted more annoyingly—other-Abigail or her husband. Both are neither surprised nor too put off by the fact that there are two Abigails now, and the fact that her husband feels the need to ask “Do you have a twin sister?” rather seriously made me question the realism of their relationship. Still, everything is wrapped up fine in this story-within-a-story format, but I just couldn’t help feeling slighted. If going back to fix our mistakes was as easy as Abigail showed us, then I guess I’ll see you all in another life. Or maybe not.

The battle between science fact and true belief rages on in “Salvation” by Jerry Oltion. William Winters, a “snooty academic” scientist, is being questioned by Reverend Billy Dickerson and his peers of the Universal Church of Divine Revelation. Winters has shown up insisting that the regents stop all this and just buy science rather than scientists. By that, he means physics and the notion that there are ten spatial dimensions out there, as well as one time dimension. To find such discoveries, he needs funding, though, and Reverend Billy, unknowingly, is just the right man for the job.

Yes, this is time-traveling story #2; it’s more hypothetical where “Anything Would be Worth It” is simply direct, with a lot of talking heads and what-ifs tossed left and right. The characters eventually steps into the past, altering events and people as easily as asking a question or breaking a branch. Not to spoil it, but they meet up with Jesus. This was hard going for me, but I actually found the ambiguous ending to be rather appropriate, after all was said. Some might be turned off by the subject matter in “Salvation,” but it’s still worth a read.

In “‘Domo Arigato,’ says Mr. Roboto” by Robert R. Chase, James Calley, a boy a million kilometers from home, is put through repeated simulation sequences in order to improve his chances of being able to perform them even while unconscious. The voice of Maria Theresa Gonzales guides him, and his task is to dock with an asteroid to help synchronize it with the orbit of Earth. Docking goes successfully, but Calley soon learns that he has a new neighbor, one claiming that asteroid as the property of Japan. Calley must find a solution and fast, as a storm is approaching.

At first, I found the direct reference to Robert A. Heinlein slightly jarring, but in hindsight—and from a quick glance at the story’s title alone—it shouldn’t really bother a lot of readers. Chase’s usage of pop culture and true-to-life people become a staple in the story, making it a mixture of familiarity and outlandish adventure. I’m not fond of stories that aim for both silliness and seriousness, and here I wanted this to be a straightforward exploration of an asteroid and the quirky robot caught up in the mix.

Jenna Dalmas is taking a short break from her deskwork in “Reunion” by David W. Goldman when a man from External Affairs enters her office, informing her that the Warrant that allows their colony to exist is missing. The Vulesk will be returning shortly to check on their world’s status, and the task of finding the Warrant is unfortunately—and haphazardly—placed on Jenna’s shoulders. This isn’t her normal work, which usually has her finding people to bribe to help expand someone else’s business or tracking down obsolete parts for some antique artifact. Of course, on her search to save the colony, she’ll learn a lot more than she first imagined.

A high-tech mystery, “Reunion” is a big piece of science fiction that starts out interesting, lags a bit in the middle, and then picks up candidly at the end. Jenna has a world full of information at her call—which is both handy and hindering. A lot of the time, the reader is forced to scroll through exposition while they wait for Jenna to figure out if it is A) important or B) not important. Goldman’s strength for dialogue is evident, and the worldbuilding gradually becomes more interesting as Jenna digs herself deeper and deeper into her mission.