The Solaris Book of New Science Fiction: Volume 2, edited by George Mann

The second volume of original science fiction stories published by Solaris, The Solaris Book of New Science Fiction: Volume 2, repeats the successful formula of the first: freestyle, all new tales, no strings attached, no theme restrictions. Readers will find a most variegated selection of stories, from quasi-fantasy in medieval settings to high-strung technological adventures on alien worlds.

In the introduction, editor George Mann provides a brief but sensible analysis of the return of the original science fiction anthology, as evidenced by the recent spree of similar publications, such as Lou Anders’s Fast Forward 1, and reaffirms his creed to reach fans and new readers alike and provide them with a showcase of the very best short science fiction stories he can find.

Paul Di Filippo opens the volume with “iCity,” a good, funny story involving a liquid architecture building contest in what seems to be a virtual environment (but it could also be a far-too-real future world that has learned how to shape matter at will), with all its ups and downs. “iCity” is a delightful romp and reminded me a little of Cory Doctorow’s post-Internet age works, such as Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom. On the other hand, even though Di Filippo’s is an original story, elements evocative of realities similar to Second Life, karma points, and the like are starting to get stale—much like virtual reality stories towards the end of the 80s. Don’t get me wrong; it’s a very entertaining story, but not a grab-the-reader-by-the-horns one—which would undoubtedly have been a better start to this anthology.

Kay Kenyon’s “The Space Crawl Blues” takes a straightforward approach to the problems of technological paradigm shifts. Here, readers are presented with the question: what happens if a teleporting device suddenly renders all spaceships obsolete? The protagonist, a well-seasoned pilot who has a cozy relationship with his ship’s AI, soon finds out that this new technology may not be as safe as it seems, at least in the first years. It’s an interesting tale about friendship and where your allegiances fall in the end.

Chris Roberson’s novelette, “The Line of Dichotomy,” is a no-nonsense, military approach to the question of peace in the middle of a war on another planet. Set in the universe of The Dragon’s Nine Sons, this is the story of the war between the Chinese and the Aztecs on the red planet of the solar system, Fire Star. “The Line of Dichotomy” shows us the POV of a group of Chinese scientists and military people trapped with a Mexican soldier, and the slow, painful recognition of the futility of war. However, it’s not a manifesto of any ideology; the story’s title was well chosen. The ending is not surprising but is quite convincing.

“Fifty Dinosaurs” by Robert Reed is a truly irritating story—irritating in the sense that we identify so much with the plight of poor Kelvin, a human being awakened in a far future to a strange sort of birthday party in the company of dinosaurs and even a giant microbe (an eukaryote called Barry), that we want to know more about him. But, inevitably, he is the only being of the past poorly resurrected and has almost no access at all to his memories. That’s a cruel one Mr. Reed pulled on his readers—but at least it has a happy, weird ending.

In the two stories “Mason’s Rats: Black Rat” and “Mason’s Rats: Autotractor,” Neal Asher cranks up the suspension of disbelief with (of course) Mason’s rats. The first story of the resourceful farmer and his intelligent rats, “Mason’s Rats,” appeared in the April/May 2005 issue of Asimov’s. In it, Mason finds that the infestation of rats in his farm is in fact the beginning of a primitive but smart civilized rat society. In “Mason’s Rats: Black Rat,” he must face off against a big black rat which is in a very foul mood and prone to attack—not with bites, but with weapons, including a sort of toy catapult. And in “Mason’s Rats: Autotractor,” he goes up against an autotractor, whose limited-range AI is also very perky. Of note, the three stories were released together by Graeme Hurry’s Kimota Publishing in 1999.

Brenda Cooper’s “Blood Bonds” is a touching story of love and loyalty, told through the eyes of Lissa and Aline, identical twins. One twin was paralyzed by a terrorist attack and lives most of her time in virtual worlds; the other twin goes to Mars to make money in order to improve the condition of her sister. But her sister, even in her crippled state, manages to bond with her sister off-body, giving her the scenic route of a human-turned-AI and offering her a gift that could change both their lives. Although predictable, “Blood Bonds” is moving all the same.

Peter Watts’s “The Eyes of God” is a story that dares not speak its name—literally. Priesthood, sexual offenses, and a kind of phildickian method that prevents someone from having dirty thoughts, even is he hasn’t done anything wrong. Thing is, we already know from the start that this guy is deranged (not his fault, as the author leads us to believe, but maybe that of a Catholic Father he met when very young—but we can’t be sure of that, either). There’s almost an elegant metaphor embedded in the storytelling, but “The Eyes of God” tries to explain too much while at the same time leaving too many things unsaid. A difficult paradox.

“Sunworld” by Eric Brown reminded me of Gene Wolfe’s memorable series The Book of the New Sun and particularly The Book of the Long Sun, perhaps with sparse touches of David Zindell’s Neverness. The ending is predictable, but that’s not really important here. Brown (who contributed “The Farewell Party” in Volume 1) has a talent for showing us the landscape in detail, as though for him, the destination isn’t necessarily more important than the journey itself. A fine, well-built story which left me craving more.

Mary Robinette Kowal’s “Evil Robot Monkey,” the shortest piece in this anthology, is a smart tale about monkeys with implants and a cautionary tale of how intelligence can sometimes be very lonely.

“Shining Armor” by Dominic Green is, surprisingly enough, a Japanese giant robot story! Green has a lot of gall to pull this stunt, but the story works just fine. Entertaining and action-packed, I greatly enjoyed it.

Karl Schroeder’s “Book, Theatre, and Wheel” isn’t so much SF as it is a fantastic tale in the tradition of Italo Calvino’s The Castle of Crossed Destinies, a book built on two readings of tarot. Schroeder didn’t (one presumes) write this story laying tarot cards, but he manages to entice the reader with the symbology of writing in medieval times when reading (especially for women, as is the case here), while not strictly forbidden, wasn’t viewed in a very positive light. The protagonist, a knight bonded to the Church, crosses the path of a lady who knows the art of writing in symbols, and he must rethink all of his previous conceptions about the world. Powerful.

There are two anticlimactic stories in this anthology. The first is David Louis Edelman’s “Mathralon,” which describes the mining of the eponymous ore, told through the POV of one of the miners detailing the Kafka-esque bureaucracy that he and all his co-workers have to fight off—to no avail, as they are very far from Earth or any other colonies. A sad, lonely tale of abandonment.

The novella “Modem Times” by Grand Master Michael Moorcock takes us again on a wild ride with Jerry Cornelius in a multilayered story. But perhaps more important than rollicking around through different times and places of the Moorcock multiverse, there seems to be “subliminal” subtext in the quotes before each chapter, all referring to the Bush administration or the alienation of society as a whole. A reminder that not every science fiction story must make immediate sense to the reader, and this story’s ripples may well reach beyond its boundaries.

The closing piece, Dan Abnett’s “Point of Contact,” is the second anticlimactic offering here. It holds some similarities to Golden Age stories but with a touch of the ennui of the 80s. There’s almost no action at all, but the mounting anticlimaxes (yes, there are several) fail to instill boredom because Abnett keeps us wanting to see how deeply bored he can make all his characters. And, boy, he can do that. A fine close to the anthology.

All in all, Volume 2 is a welcome addition to the ever-growing list of original anthologies. And a pleasure to read. Mann, who is already planning a third installment in what may well be a yearly series, hopes this apparent trend has come to stay. So do I.

Publisher: Solaris Books (Feb. 2008)
Price: $7.99
Mass Market Paperback: 416 pages
ISBN: 1844165426