For Ibn Qirtaiba's Australian readers we have a special gift this issue: free passes to the critically-acclaimed movie Dark City, distributed in Australia by Roadshow Film Distributors and previewed for issue 38. Keep reading to find out how to obtain your free movie pass, and watch this space for more movie reviews as IQ continues to increase its coverage of this form of the genre.
This issue's feature is a preview of Dark City (actually a review for Ibn Qirtaiba's American and British readers), but you will also enjoy the commencement of a new serial - Adventure of the Gaspierr Ruby by regular contributor Tony Chandler. Fred Noweck's regular Sci-Fi Corner column is also included in this issue with four more SF book reviews, along with David Kopaska-Merkel's poem A Wink of the Further Eye, which was first published in Starline.
As always your contributions and feedback (for publication or otherwise) are warmly welcomed.
Movie preview: Dark City Serial: Adventure of the Gaspierr Ruby,
part 1 by Tony Chandler
Dark City is a new film
conceived and directed by Alex Proyas, which makes its cinematic debut in Australia this
month. Proyas, the Australian director of The Crow, is a more prolific director
of music videos and commercials than feature films. Some detractors of The Crow
seized upon this credential in criticising that film as being too stylistically big for
its narrative boots (a criticism which did not affect its commercial success). Dark
City is visually as dark and noirish as its predecessor, but can boast a more
compelling plot to match its atmosphere.
The film's principal character John Murdoch (Rufus Sewell) wakes in a hotel bath with
no memory of his identity, and with a bloodied corpse in the room. His struggle to regain
his memory coincides with the unveiling of a shadowy group of overseers - the Strangers -
who alter the reality of the city and its residents overnight. Reminiscent of some of the
classic science fiction and horror movies, from Invasion of the Body Snatchers
onwards, only our hero can detect the machinations taking place around him, as characters,
places and time are shifted and reformed.
Kiefer Sutherland plays Dr Daniel Schreber, a role lying somewhere between the scientist he played in Flatliners and his eccentric FBI agent from Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me. Schreber's motives towards Murdoch remain equivocal for much of the film, which despite (or because of) a rather dubious affectation of speech, renders his character perhaps the film's most memorable. Sewell, although not exactly mis-cast, in comparison lacks sincerity in some scenes, most particularly Murdoch's confrontations with Schreber.
Jennifer Connelly and William Hurt contribute respectable performances respectively as Emma Murdoch and Detective Bumstead (in the plot's context the pulpy character names can be forgiven). Hurt's character, originally intended by Proyas as the film's central protagonist, is underutilised in the end product, but the decision to emphasise Murdoch's role was clearly the correct one.
Finally Rocky Horror's Richard
O'Brien wonderfully hams up the role of Mr Hand, strangest of the zombie-like Strangers
who haunt Murdoch and his allies. Mr Hand and his cronies (who are named like gangsters
from Reservoir Dogs) are another example of Hollywood's unwritten rule that
"bad guys" speak with English accents, whereas "good guys" (even
Sewell, a Briton) speak American.
Visually Dark City is a tour-de-force, as to be expected from its director. The retro-fantastic sets and modelwork of the movie are particularly impressive; all the more so because the vast city of perpetual night depicted on screen was constructed entirely in Sydney's Fox studios, rather than in a seedy American industrial metropolis such as that which the movie's world resembles.
Quibbles are few, and most are resolved as the plot unfolds. However viewers are
recommended to block their ears during the pre-title sequence, onto which an expository
monologue by Sutherland has all too obviously been added during post-production to satisfy
slow-witted studio executives' perceptions of the intelligence of their audience.
Another imperfection is the movie's failure to explore - except by way of an unconvincing throw-away line - the source of the powers John Murdoch acquires, and on which the movie's denouement turns. A more satisfying explanation will present itself to perceptive viewers; whether this formed part of Proyas' original vision would be interesting to ascertain.
Dark City is not an easy or even a pleasant film for the mainstream viewer, and will not enjoy such wide commercial success as Deep Impact or Godzilla; however like Blade Runner and Brazil it is more likely to be remembered and admired after its more commercial counterparts have been eclipsed by ever more flashy and expensive blockbusters. Dark City is highly recommended as an intelligent, stylish journey into mind-expanding speculative fiction.
Dark City, starring Rufus Sewell, Kiefer Sutherland, Jennifer Connelly, Richard O'Brien, Ian Richardson and William Hurt is released in Australia on 6 August 1998. Thanks to Roadshow Film Distributors, Ibn Qirtaiba has free single passes to the movie to give away to Australian readers, which are valid around Australia until 9 August. For your chance to receive a free pass, send a SSAE to: Ibn Qirtaiba, 208/112 Mounts Bay Road, West Perth 6005. First come will be first served, so don't delay!
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'Keep your mind focused...just do the job.' He thought silently.
But he still felt the adrenaline pumping throughout his body like a runaway starcruiser as the alien laughter, mixed with raucous yells, filled the large room around him. His gray eyes again surveyed his new surroundings. Straightening up to his six foot frame, he brushed his fingers through his dark hair. Closing his eyes, he tried to clear his mind.
But as he opened them they were again drawn to the prisoner.
He was a hairy alien, slightly smaller than a human, while generally humanoid in shape. The face reminded him of a rodent, though the large leather-like ears took something away from that picture. The tail was obviously prehensile, curling up just behind the furry head. Though trapped in the tiny prison that floated above one end of the bar, he stood erect with a quiet dignity. As he swayed slightly with fatigue, he would suddenly jerk his body back upright. With good reason.
The pale blue light surrounding the prisoner told everyone that a Mazzor field held him fast. Really it was torture. As the tired alien again swayed, this time too far to one side, the harsh sound and flashing arcs of light announced the sudden pain that had been inflicted.
Someone wanted him to die; slow and painful.
'A Staeurian', Chase thought, though he had never seen one in person. 'Must do a lot of climbing on its home world. He was going to have to look the species up in his ship's computers when he got back later. Adding another alien species to the growing list in his personal database'. Chase slowly shook his head before he took another drink. Could be he deserved his fate, though he would not have wished it on his worst enemy, and there were plenty of them right now. He brought his thoughts back to the here and now.
The bar was larger than most, and it was packed with vicious low lifes from all over this quadrant of the galaxy. Something flew through the half-lit air to crash against the head of a Nerillian. Purplish blood began to stream down his wide jowls as the large bulk of the Nerillian quickly rose to his feet and chased down the drunken alien on the other end of the toss. As they became, momentarily, the center of attention for everyone else, Chase surveyed the prize that he had travelled so far to obtain.
Above the back of the long bar, seemingly unprotected as it floated in the air, was the Gaspierr Ruby. Bigger than a man's fist and cut in shape close to an Earth Marquis, the light glimmered seductively off of its red surfaces. The centerpiece of the crown jewels for the House of Gaspierr, somehow it had found its way to this sink hole in space.
But then the galaxy was a big place. And like any wide open frontier, with the arm of the law far away, there would always be those who would make their own. Pirates, smugglers and thieves have existed on every inhabited planet since the beginning of time.
How much easier for them to work in the wide open regions of the galaxy.
Alzacabar was home planet to such in this quadrant. And it had as much of a shady past as its denizens. It was not to be found on the main Galactic database. Of course it was mentioned on the navigational ones, but if you went by the official description, Alzacabar had nothing to offer. Hell itself would have been a better place to visit.
Yet there was a small thriving population. On second thought, seeing the type of aliens that based their fast starships here, there could be more than one way of interpreting that statement.
"Hello, Chase. I got the software preload finished. We're ready for tomorrow." Lydia said, playing her part for any aliens close enough to overhear.
The sultry voice belonged to his newfound partner. The warmth of her arm brushed against his as she stood close to him. She wore her auburn hair down tonight, the long strands curling down to her shoulders. Her beautiful smile seemed out of place.
Chase's pulse quickened at her nearness as she ordered a drink. But he would have to keep this professional for a couple of more days. Then maybe...
An uneasy feeling came over him which he immediately shook it off. Normally Chase hand-picked his crew. But not this time. Lydia had been chosen by someone very close to The Gaspierr, the original owner of the ruby, so he had never met her before the start of the mission ten days before. And with both of them training and preparing for this little escapade, there had been little time for chit-chat.
She was competent enough, Chase had discerned that from their preplanning counsels. And she was experienced, though they both kept their past out of the conversations. It worked better that way.
But Chase felt uneasy. He couldn't really place it, though he attributed it to how they were thrown together.
And there was the other, obvious, reason. She was a woman.
Chase secretly laughed at himself. With all of his expertise in alien cultures, their ways, their motives, etcetera, his one failure had been with his own kind. He had never enjoyed a long term relationship with a woman.
'Perhaps he tried too hard', he mused?
Lydia took the drink the bartender brought her. She tipped the glass his way and then drank deeply.
Chase felt they had worked well together so far. He had even sported thoughts of the two of them together in less work-like situations.
"Enjoying yourself Lydia?" He asked with a wry smile.
Arching an eyebrow, she spoke in low tones.
"Yes, quite an interesting place. A friendly security officer bought me a drink earlier."
They smiled at each other. A few tables away a fight broke out as aliens scrambled away from the combatants. The sharp noise of a blaster settled it quickly.
"Friendly was he?" Chase asked.
"Mahvahs are known to have a weakness for Earth women. He was true to his kind. He's even invited me over to his place for a private drink," she said in mock surprise.
Chase looked into her emerald eyes. This was a good break.
"Can you handle it?" He whispered, trying to keep his concern hidden.
She laughed. "No problem."
The sensual smell of her perfume caused him to pause before speaking. And then her face was close. Without any warning, she kissed him. Sweet and lingering.
'I could learn to like this', he thought.
She placed her forefinger on his mouth before he could say anything else. And then she left.
'So much for keeping it professional', he sighed inwardly.
He watched with a smile as she made her way between a group of Gargarians.
Chase almost spilled his drink as a small, high pitched voice interrupted his racing thoughts.
A tiny alien about two feet tall, slender with a silvery glow, climbed up the seat to finish its drink next to him.
He didn't know what the alien was, but he wished it would go away.
Then again, he was waiting for their 'inside' contact that would assist them. Chase waited for the 'line' to see if this pip-squeak could be it.
"Do you like humor, human? He chuckled with a sly smile of his thin, silver lips.
Chase grunted, turning away.
It wasn't the contact line.
"Now, now, its only a little joke. Hear it out."
"I'm not in the mood for humor."
"Come on, you'll like it."
With a sigh Chase turned back. He hated friendly drunks.
"Now then," the silver alien smiled widely. "How many humans does it take..."
Chase backhanded the alien ingrate before another word came out, launching it about fifteen feet across the room.
And then it felt like a rock had gripped his shoulder from the rear.
Twisting his head, he noticed the large clawed hand now attached with his shoulder. And then he was forcibly wrenched around to face the claw's owner.
Chase tensed.
The large snout opened wide, revealing the nasty fangs of a Nerillian. The beady red eyes were alight with anger.
"That's my little friend you just slapped, human!" The last word was growled with drunken contempt.
Chase's mind raced. He knew he had been set up instantly. For what reason he couldn't discern. Huge muscles rippled under the stout alien's shirt. The two huge nostrils on the flat snout opened wide as the alien's other arm reached back to strike. And then his memory served up one of this alien's weakness' in hand-to-hand combat.
Chase spit directly into the right nostril. The alien screamed in pain as Chase then slammed his fist into the snout. The leathery skin gave under his blow. But the grip on his shoulder only got tighter as the clawed fist flew Chase's way.
The alien's blow dazed him, but the grip on his shoulder lessened enough to allow him to jump down off of his stool. Weaving slightly, he warily faced his antagonist. Chase noted with satisfaction that the Nerillian weaved himself as he went into a battle stance.
It charged him.
Side-stepping and avoiding the huge fist, Chase twisted and kicked. But the Nerillian's stout body was as solid as it looked. It didn't even grunt from the blow. But the alien glanced at Chase's legs with newfound respect. Roaring, it charged again.
Chase felt the fist pound his ribs as the alien slammed him against the bar. Another blow quickly followed, sending a sharp pain throughout his body. As he struggled to get out of its grasp, the bleeding snout appeared right in front of him. Raising his head, he headbutted with all his might.
The alien screamed this time.
Clutching the bruised and bleeding snout, the red eyes seemed to glow at him. Again it went into a battle stance, and then charged. Murder was in its eyes. If it pinned Chase again, that would be the end.
Faking a blow with his fist to the Nerillian's midriff, the alien responded by lowering both its fisted claws. Quickly twisting around, Chase brought his leg around with a tremendous blow to its tender snout. The Nerillian went down with a crash.
The observing alien faces returned to their immediate surroundings, the fun temporarily over. Leaning shakily against the hard surface, he tried to breathe normally again.
"Not bad for a human. Not bad at all."
Chase turned to find a very large figure standing over him. The grinning teeth filled the laughing mouth of its owner. It started laughing harder.
He felt a little uneasy at not being able to place this species, but his open laughter offset that feeling. Other than that, Chase's first impression was that the creature was quite overweight.
"Bar tender! A Taillen whiskey for me and the human!"
Chase looked warily at the drink offered him from the heavy handed alien. For the first time he noticed the uniform. A pirate Captain no less. The glass was put under Chase's nose, the warm smell enticing. Shaking his head with an audible sigh to take the plunge, he grasped the small tumbler and downed the contents.
Wild and exotic lights filled his senses as Chase lost all concept of where he was. There was no longer a place, or any concept of time. It felt like he was floating... and then the moment faded back to better known sensations.
A roaring laughter brought him completely back to reality.
"You humans make such faces! Oh ho-ho-ho," the heavy-set captain slapped a giant thigh as he bent over with laughter.
Chase brushed back his dark hair, and then shook his head, trying to clear it from the effects of the whiskey.
Emptied of his humor, the large brown eyes of the alien captain came closer. Clearing his deep voice he said, "I could use another good fighter on my ship. You may of heard of her," he smiled as he paused for effect, "the Devourer. And I," he straightened up, putting an arm across his round chest, "I am Captain Haigeg." The jovial deep voice had gone very serious on the official introduction, though a huge smile still graced his alien face.
Chase was still trying to clear his head. Pushing himself up, he finally stood on his own feet. Turning to the towering Captain he spoke shakily, "No, afraid not. I'm not from around these parts."
"Yes, yeees. I know that. It's very obvious to see." The Captain looked around with a calculating eye. "Why don't you join me over at my table. Maeei is there." As the Captain literally picked Chase up by his arm, they made their way into the middle of the crowded room.
Chase was able to finish the journey under his own power as the huge captain loosened his grip. Now that he could think again, he wondered what this unforeseen incident was going to cost him. He had a slim enough time frame as it was. Tomorrow night was the deadline. Why he did not know, he had gotten no answer from his clients. But tomorrow night it had to be done, and it seemed this captain was going to be as long winded as he was big. He felt his stomach turn as they approached the table.
Maeei was an ugly one, about three hundred pounds of jiggling, spotted Aalvian flesh. She didn't smell too good either, Chase noted with a wrinkling of his nose.
"Isn't she beautiful!
Chase nodded as he smiled widely at the Captain's mistress.
The Captain leaned closer to Chase, " You know," he whispered slyly, " if you treat her right, she just might take a liking to a puny creature like yourself."
Chase swallowed.
Maeei winked.
Grasping the Captain by his collar, Chase pulled the big alien's ear closer and whispered sincerely, "I'm afraid she might be a bit too much for me to handle."
Haigeg laughed so loud that the empty glasses on the table danced around. The slap on Chase's back was almost as painful as his confrontation with the Nerillian.
"I like you human." And then to his female. " My sweetness, leave us for a moment. We have business to discuss."
She puckered her huge lips and flapped a kiss his way.
Chase watched as the huge female pushed her large frame up. He also noted that she had sat upon two chairs.
Taking a deep breath, Chase began plotting how he could untangle himself from this pirate and get back to the bar and meet his unknown accomplice. The half whispered words caused him to hold his breath momentarily.
"I understand the winters are pretty bad in Miami? No?"
Haigeg had spoken the code.
"Yeah, it can get up to your waist at times." Only someone very familiar with Earth would know that this was hogwash. And most aliens cared little about humans or their home world.
Haigeg smiled as he raised his bushy eyebrows knowingly. He took a long pull from his glass and pushed another at Chase. He declined it.
"Taillen whiskey, good stuff. Grows hair on your throat, no?!"
Chase rubbed his throat. He hoped this was just a jovial expression.
"I know, you want to know if my ship, if she is a good one. Come," the big Captain gestured broadly. "You'll beg to join my crew after you see her."
Chase looked around the dimly lit room. "Lydia is supposed to meet me here in about an hour..."
"Yes, yes, I saw your woman. Kind of skinny human with reddish hair. Maeei will bring her, meet me over there." With that Haigeg got up and walked over to his mistress as Chase walked toward the entrance but stopped at the end of the long bar.
Again his eyes were drawn to the prisoner. The prisoner's jet black eyes stared back at him.
What was he feeling?
Chase nodded at him. The prisoner nodded silently back.
Haigeg's large frame moved beside him.
"What'd he do to deserve that," Chase asked as Haigeg followed his gaze up to the prisoner.
Looking at the poor creature Haigeg spoke somberly, "Treason I hear. I wasn't at the Council of Captains when he was sentenced, so I know not what the treason was." With that they stepped through the doors into the chilly night air.
Fifteen minutes later they were aboard the Devourer.
"I must apologize for the Nerillian."
Chase eyed the Captain as he sat at one of the terminals.
"I thought it might be a good way to meet discreetly. You humans draw attention just because you're so rare out here." Raising his arms he continued, "And Nerillians are so easily provoked. I just mentioned how you humans detest them, and well..." Shrugging, Haigeg stood beside him as a plan of the bar came up on one screen, while the security system came up on another.
"You must make it look like a real break-in. I don't want any suspicion my way. That's why I fly out of here tomorrow morning."
"Won't you be under suspicion by my coming aboard tonight?"
"No, it's common to interview prospective crewers met at the bars. Especially ones that show prowess in battle. That was why I used the Nerillian. Of course you had to beat him first. But that was your little detail to work out." The jovial face smiled down at him. "I had heard you were good in tight situations, Chase Broughton. So it seems you are," Haigeg said appreciatively
Chase nodded as he turned and studied first one terminal, then the other. He didn't notice the passage of time as he went deeper and deeper, screen after screen.
"Ah, company."
Haigeg's words brought Chase out of his deep concentration. Lydia stood next to the Captain. The jiggling bulk of Maeei filled the rest of space behind them.
"How'd it go?" Chase asked.
"Not as well as I'd liked. These security types are always so paranoid. By the way," she smiled, holding an empty vial. "He'll have a real nice hangover tomorrow."
"Good. We won't need his information anyway, our contact here has all that we need."
Lydia seated herself and started studying the security system. Her fingers danced over the keyboard as her green eyes rapidly ran over the data.
"Very good system. All the latest," she said with awe in her voice.
"Has to be. The planet's full of thieves and pirates!" Haigeg laughed.
But Chase saw the logic. Whatever kind of loose allegiance or organization they had here, it was obvious they didn't all trust one another. Security was pretty tight even here in the docking areas for the ships.
"Two days from now the ruby will go with a private collector." Haigeg's voice took on serious tone. "These passwords will get you into the system tomorrow night. With this kind of clearance it will be easy to hack and crash the system for a few minutes, before the backup system takes over. That I can't help you with, only the most trusted know about that. Anyway, you should be able to put in a virus or something to cause problems. The defences around the ruby are another story." Looking at Chase he gritted his teeth. "You will have twelve seconds to get the ruby once the system goes down initially. But the hardest part will be getting from the bar back to ship. The place is always full. That's one reason they keep it there. The other's because it's the best heist since the Gorist Treasure ship." He laughed out loud, "Hey, we're proud of it."
Chase nodded and turned.
"Lydia, three basic things that I will need to get the ruby and get back in one piece." Lydia's green eyes fixed on him. Chase continued, "First, their surveillance system, put it out of operation for at least fifteen, maybe twenty minutes." She nodded as she sat at console next to him and started typing. "Second, at precisely the time I will set, the field around the ruby needs to come down. I will then have twelve seconds to retrieve it and put the fake in its place."
"The system will no doubt detect it is a fake!" Haigeg said in a loud voice.
"Yes, though I hope they won't have the complete system back on-line right away. Anyway, the fake is for the eyes, I don't want anyone in the bar to notice its gone." Haigeg laughed. Chased turned back to Lydia. "Third, and most important, after you crash the security system, you'll need to stay in the system fight their efforts to bring it back on-line until we're underway. I'll only communicate if I run into something unexpected." His voice became grave. "Study their system like our lives depended on it. They do."
"Right." And then Lydia was intently studying the console as her fingers flew over the keyboard.
"Haigeg, what about this passage from underneath the kitchen back here," Chase pointed to a map, his finger at the end of a passage leading back to the docking area. It was one of many that criss-crossed underneath the main level. They were narrow with no climate control whatsoever.
"Underground, human. Nobody uses it but sanitation. And it's patrolled by a single YR-17 Attack Robot. The fast hover models," Hiageg's voice was deadly serious. Reaching up, he pointed to a side door out of the same kitchen at ground level. "This might be a good way, security will be coming from over here. You'll have to get to this branch and head back before they cut you off."
Chase noticed that there were several places that led down to the lower level all along the path Haigeg pointed out. His gut feeling was to go down. But a YR-17. Tapping the keyboard, he brought up the file on the robot.
It was relatively small, its main body a sphere about three feet in diameter. Sticking out horizontally on both sides were twin rapid-fire blasters. Directly in front and behind were its visual sensors. They weren't going to sneak up on it! But, being a model designed for isolated duty, such as tunnels or underground retreats, it didn't have any motion sensors, though it did have heat sensors all around its equator. And it was heavily armored for such a small flying 'bot. It's only weakness was its service door, where it was turned off for maintenance. But how to get that close? The only weak points in its sensors were the areas directly below and above.
Chase shook his head and went over other avenues back to the ship. He knew the guards would be near-by, with all of the trouble brewing at the bar. Hmmm, he thought. He might use that potential powder keg to help him with the guards.
The Staeurian suddenly came into his mind.
"Lydia, I'm thinking we ought to free the Staeurian, maybe as a diversion. The more craziness the better at the bar."
She turned slowly, considering. When she spoke, her words were like weapons.
"Stupid idea." She said viciously. "It'll bring the guards that much quicker. This is our only shot at the ruby. If you blow it, well..."
Chase looked at her strangely, as if seeing her for the first time.
"Just make sure you keep your comm link on, the ruby and I will be coming to you." Chase's words were sharp in return. Their eyes fixed on each other as tension filled the air between them. And then she went back to work.
She was right about not bringing the guards too soon, but... Well, if he couldn't find a valid reason, the Staeurian would just have to die. Clenching his teeth he turned to the pirate Captain.
"OK. Haigeg, got some Earth coffee on board? We're going to be up awhile."
The alien snapped his fingers.
The hours dragged on. Chase memorized every exit, every possible way back to the ship. But, deep inside, he still felt the best way back was underground. But how to take out the robot. He had the tool to open the YR-17's access door, he had found it as part of his store of supplies, though this would be its first use. But how to get close enough? Ambush it from below? Chase felt tired. As he turned his tired eyes back to the security screens, his tired slouch suddenly straightened with interest.
He had found a heading on the prisoner, some kind of report. Chase smiled widely.
Perhaps his gut feeling had been right all along...
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I've sent out a few columns ahead, so I don't know exactly when this column will come out, probably around the end of July.
This month we have:
Spacer Dreams tells the (thin) story of Tom Jenkins, ward of the Federation, in the Brighthome Youth Center, "last chance for the galaxy's troubled youth". He has been there for four years, doesn't remember who his parents were, but thinks that they were killed by space pirates. The plot is simplistic, the characterization flat.
I don't usually tell the story of these books that I review so as to let you read them yourself and enjoy the surprises. I knew as soon as I read about space pirates that they would be visiting the youth center. I knew that when the new kid, Mikey (short for Michelle) was able to take apart the center's resident bully in nothing flat (he had over a foot and 100 pounds advantage on her) that she wasn't what she seemed. And when a Space Guard radio operator recognized her voice and called her Alex over an open radio (please!) even though she was undercover (please twice!)... I mean, really!
This one, although in the adult section, belongs in the juvenile section. There is no meat on the bones for an adult to enjoy, unlike Heinlein's juveniles (one of which is reviewed later in this column) which have something for everyone. This is no multi-levelled story. Once you read the first chapter, the entire book is predictable.
What do you do when artificial intelligences (AIs) run the computer nets? How do you keep them from applying thoroughly logical (but highly disastrous for humans) solutions to the problems that arise? How do you pull the plug before it's too late? What Hogan proposes in Two Faces of Tomorrow is to build a space station, put an AI in full control, with no knowledge of humanity, and then try to shut it off. As this (comparatively) small system reacts to these threats to its existence, it is hoped by the characters that what happens to the system will reflect (at a faster rate) the future of the global nets. Can humans retain control of the computer nets? Or will AIs decide that humanity is an unacceptable flaw in the system?
A chilling vision of the future, with full-blown Deus ex Machina, Hogan still injects hope into his story of the ultimate Nemesis/Messiah of Mankind. This one (once you get past the first, regrettably, slow chapter) is a page turner of first water. Hogan, a long-time favorite of mine for techno-thrillers, offers up puzzles that have no obvious solutions. In fact, in some cases, you would swear that there were no solutions! Keep up the good work, James!
Citizen of the Galaxy, Heinlein's story of a slave economy in galactic civilization, covers so many levels that, even after reading it at least fifteen times, I'm still finding things I hadn't noticed before. Thorby, slave (bought and paid for) of Baslim the Beggar, is educated not only on how to be a licensed beggar on Jubbalpore, capital of the Nine Worlds, but also in many subjects that have nothing to do with life on Jubbalpore. Thorby learns early on that Baslim is not all that he appears to be.... and some of the people he knows are the Free Traders, roving families that spend most of their lives in space and on the same ships; trading, fighting pirates and slavers, and gathering Intelligence.
After Baslim is killed, Thorby is on his own again. But now he has the ear of the Free Traders (who speak Finnish, by the way - Heinlein always included words and phrases from languages he was learning in his stories). He is adopted by the traders and trained to act as one of them while they obey Baslim's last request of them - to find Thorby's family if at all possible.
Heinlein's stories always entertain and instruct me - he will be missed by us all.
Lost in Translation, this months fantasy story, is about Allie, perpetual college student, whose father has gotten tired of paying twelve thousand a year for a "liberal arts" education for his daughter that hasn't taught her anything. Sound familiar? Of course, nobody could have anticipated the unlikely combination of chance that sent her, not to her French university, but to Somewhere Else.
The mage Aigar has been working on forbidden spells, trying to draw a soul from the "Elder World" (Earth, that is), for a nefarious scheme of his own. When he gets Allie, he didn't figure on her being immune to his wardings. She doesn't even notice that they are there. She enrols in the Magick university there, mistakenly thinking that it's the Univercite de Massat, the one that she was supposed to go to, and thinking that she got there on auto-pilot from jetlag. (Since she couldn't recall just how she got there)
Merrideth, you will probably like this one as it's written from a woman's point of view and there isn't much "thud and blunder". It made a pleasant change of pace for me. I rate this one about a 6.5 out of 10.
This month we have a letter from Camelopard (yes, that's how it's spelled).
Hello from San Diego. I am Lendon Best, managing editor of G'Raffiti, newsletter of The Camelopard Society, an independent IQ society based in San Diego.
We'd like to reprint an excerpt from your book review column which appeared in a recent issue - the one where you reviewed "Alien Chronicles". We will send you a copy of the issue of G'Raffiti in which it appears. (Perhaps you will give us ongoing permission to reprint from your future columns, occasionally.)
Oh, by the way, I want to assure you that we are non-profit. We have no paid employees and no expense accounts. But: We do have fun!
Hi!
Yes, you can reprint my reviews in your publication! The more coverage, the better!
I have since found out that Camelopard represents the heretics of Mensa. I don't know what they are supposed to have done, but my decision stands. As long as the newsletter is non-profit, and I'm not being paid for my column (by the way Jeremy, how about a 10% cost of living raise on my pay?) anyone can reprint my column - I like the exposure!
Alright, that's it for this month. Keep your letters coming! Send to: Freddy47@aol.com or Fred@sf.sig.au.mensa.org or snail-mail to: The Sci-Fi Column, PO Box 30245, Savannah, Georgia, 31410.
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The ice-bound city, crumbling in the movement of its liberation; The signature of history/a time-bound blanket, fraying in the springs of thaw. Worn objecta litter the bars of a lusty sandur; Curiosities of ancient life brought hither on a cumbered flood. Eyelet, button, bowl of a tiny spoon glitter on the beach.
Waters rising; eustatic immersion foretold by dead greenhouse prophets born under a quicker sun.
The local fauna and flora, denizens of a frozen desert the floods will wash away, rush northward in the wake of the frozen ocean. Old friends return: oak, maple, dogwood, deer.
But as moraines and drumlin fields erode they yield a poisoned flood, immobilized beneath a mile of ice after the city's death. Anomalies creep into the forest's arborescence, gnarling limbs and shriveling pallid flesh; Armageddon's encore, put off for just so long as the deep freeze held Earth's breath, spells death in letters generations long.