Leading Edge #54 opens with Laura Ware’s “Last Heir.” Our heroine, the solder Kele, rides to the palace to warn the royal family of the death of the king in battle. Prince Rennly is the new king; however, the Queen Mother (mother of the dead king and grandmother of the new king) uses this opportunity to attempt to wipe out the surviving claimants and seize the throne for herself. She nearly succeeds in this action-packed adventure that runs all over the palace. Ware makes little issue of Kele’s gender, and the soldier could easily have been a young man for all the importance that’s attached to it. The title of Queen Mother will probably also set a few teeth on edge as this was a post that was invented in the last century by the British royal family to give a middle-aged widow a job. The story title, incidentally, does not appear to be a pun on lost hair, just in case anyone was wondering.
Richard Windle’s “To Fly” is set in a renaissance Italianate city, albeit one that floats in the clouds. Young Lucian Machiavi cannot fly, despite having the best teachers that money can buy. His nerve fails him. His high ranking uncle gives up in despair and orders that he hand over his globe, the object that enables a man to fly. Lucian flees with it, but there is only so far you can run in a flying city. Is suicide the only option? Can you guess what’s coming? There is much undeveloped in this story, giving the impression that it was originally part of a longer piece. The Montague- and Capulet-style rivalry that exists between the top families in the Soaring City takes place off-screen, which is a pity, as it seems much more interesting than Lucian’s story.
Thus far, we have two stories that suffer from being somewhat earnest in tone and unadventurous in execution. It would be tempting to blame the guidelines which read in part: “Stories with sex, profanity, excessive violence, or that belittle traditional family values or religion will not be accepted.” Tempting, but wrong. Many classics would easily fit into those strictures. The next story (and the only one not set in a secondary world) is ample proof of this.
Karen L. Kobylarz goes back to ancient Egypt in “The Book Of Thuti.” The reclusive Nefertari tells us the story of her search for a book of magic after the death of her husband, Ramesses the Great. This involves teaming up with a couple of tomb robbers, and they encounter various supernatural entities along the way. All three have different objectives, and these are reflected in their respective fates in this powerful and well-balanced tale. It’s got wit, pathos, and a strong feeling of authenticity.
Curiously, the next story, like Kobylarz’s, also has the leading character encountering a supernatural entity and refusing to give up his name to it in case it would allow it to gain power over him. In “Fortune’s Fool,” Attewell the Grave is wizard to King Ignatius. Attewell’s specialty is auguring, and Kenneth Broadway quickly starts us on an exploration of determinism and freewill. When a new land is discovered, Ignatius sends his son, Claybourne, to rule it, as his other son, Windell, is too timorous to take up the challenge. Broadway’s subtly elemental names fit the characters, but not in the way that one might initially think. This is reflected in the prophecies that naturally come to pass. Attewell despises Claybourne and cannot understand why nobody else sees through him. However, since Attewell is our narrator, we have to try and sift reality from his words. What we get is an excellent story.
Mason T. Matchak has another wizard telling us his tale in “The Crystal Girl.” Silverblood is a university student called upon to solve the mystery of a strange girl who appears on the grounds. This is one of those worlds where magic is treated as matter-of-factly as science and engineering are in our world, and on the whole, it is handled well, managing to avoid the Harry Potter trap of a literal translation of magic and science. Occasionally, Matchak goes too far and uses anachronistic words such as “pants” (more noticeable to my British eyes, perhaps), but “The Crystal Girl” is generally well executed. It is not a pastiche, although it manages a pleasing lightness of touch.
“At The Gates Of White Marble” is much darker in tone and takes hubris as its theme. Aliette de Bodard gives us three childhood friends who grow up with differing, uncanny powers. Agame is in love with Yanti, even after she is disfigured in a fire that removes the problem of her upcoming forced marriage. Yanti is in thrall to Sanharye. Sanharye is certainly ambitious; he aims to found his own city. Agame, with the ability to see souls, knows Sanharye for the amoral creature that he is, but is unwilling to abandon Yanti. The setting is vaguely middle Asian and feels real. The gradual collapse of youthful idealism on the march into adulthood is something that will register with most readers, and the ending is poignant and quite beautifully sad.
Although Leading Edge is subtitled “Journal of Science Fiction and Fantasy,” there isn’t a story in this issue that comes anywhere near being science fiction. Again, it would be easy to blame the guidelines, which may have been imposed by the publication’s sponsor, Brigham Young University, rather than the editors (science fiction is, by inclination, an iconoclastic genre). However, most magazines today are complaining of not receiving enough quality science fiction, despite being awash with fantasy submissions. You have to make the best out of what you get. There are several fine stories in this issue, but placing the weaker ones at the beginning may put off a few readers, which would be a shame.
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