Cora Buhlert's Blog, page 51

The Elusive Allison V. Harding and How to Suppress Women’s Writing… Again

Allison V. Harding, horror and fantasy author of the 1940s, is nigh forgotten these days, even though she was prolific, publishing thirty-six stories in Weird Tales between 1943 and 1951, as well as six non-genre stories in Weird Tales‘ sister magazine Short Stories.

I reviewed two of her stories, “Ride the EL to Doom” and “Guard in the Dark”, for my Retro Reviews project, and liked what I read, so much that I put “Ride the EL to Doom” on my ballot for the 1945 Retro Hugos.  Others must have agreed with me, because “Ride the EL to Doom” made the longlist for the 1945 Retro Hugos, as did Harding’s novelette “The Day the World Stood Still”, one of her rare forays into science fiction. I didn’t review “The Day the World Stood Still”, though Steve J. Wright did.

Allison V. Harding is also a mystery, because we almost nothing about her. Of course, there are plenty of pulp authors about whom we know next to nothing, but most of them are one or two story wonders, not one of the top ten most prolific contributors to Weird Tales. Furthermore, Allison V. Harding was clearly popular in her day, as the letter columns and reader polls in Weird Tales indicate.

So why do we know so little about her, even though the history of Weird Tales is fairly well documented? Part of the reason is that early Weird Tales scholars like Robert Weinberg didn’t much care for Allison V. Harding’s stories and dismissed them as forgettable fillers and therefore never even bothered to research the author.

What we do know about Allison V. Harding is that the name is a pseudonym. The person behind this pseudonym was unknown, until Sam Moskowitz dug into the files of Weird Tales in the 1970s and found that the cheques for the Harding stories were addressed to a woman named Jean Milligan, an attorney and daughter of a prominent East Coast family. Jean Milligan was also married to Charles Lamont Buchanan, assistant editor of Weird Tales and Short Stories. So mystery solved. Or is it?

Because there are also people who believe that the author of the Allison V. Harding stories was not Jean Milligan at all, but Charles Lamont Buchanan himself who used his fiancée and later wife as a front to avoid the appearance that he was publishing his own fiction in the magazine he co-edited. But more on that later.

For almost seventy years, there was little interest in the works of Allison V. Harding. Her stories were rarely reprinted, not even by the indefatigable August Derleth who kept a lot of Weird Tales authors in print via Arkham House, until the fantasy boom of the 1960s and 1970s suddenly made authors like Robert E. Howard and H.P. Lovecraft hot properties again.

However, it seems that we’re in the middle of an Allison V. Harding mini-renaissance. Her stories are getting more attention than they have received in decades and there is even an Allison V. Harding reprint collection from a publisher called Armchair Fiction available now entitled Allison V. Harding – The Forgotten Queen of Horror. It’s certainly an apt title, though sadly, the paperback collection is only available on Amazon.com, not on the international Amazons. Armchair Fiction folks, if you happen to be reading this, please check the “expanded distribution” checkbox on the Createspace/KDP Print interface or Ingram Spark or whatever you’re using, so the international Harding fans among us can order the collection without having to pay horrendous shipping fees.

As for why Harding is experiencing a renaissance at this particular moment in time, a large part of the reason is probably that vintage pulp magazines are more accessible these days than they have been in seventy years. Original copies of Weird Tales are expensive and rare collector’s items, but pretty much every copy of Weird Tales and many other pulp magazines may be found online in their entirety at archive.org. So those of us who enjoy vintage speculative fiction can now read those vintage pulp magazines again the way they appeared on the newsstands seventy or eighty years ago and are not just limited to the stories that anthologists considered important enough to reprint. And some of us stumbled upon Harding’s stories and thought, “You know, those ‘forgettable fillers’ are actually pretty damn good.”

So why do Allison V. Harding’s stories speak to us today, when they obviously didn’t speak to previous Weird Tales scholars? Part of the reason may be that scholars of Weird Tales tend to focus either on sword and sorcery or Lovecraftian cosmic horror. And that was not what Allison V. Harding wrote. Most of her stories were what would be called urban fantasy now, tales about supernatural going-ons in the modern world (in fact, a lot of what could be found in the pages of Weird Tales in the 1930s and 1940s is urban fantasy). But unlike contemporary urban fantasy writers, the monsters of Harding’s stories are rarely vampires, werewolves and the like. Instead, her monsters are the mechanical objects of the modern age. Harding liked to write about haunted machinery and objects (which was something of a trend in the 1940s, also see the Retro Hugo winners “The Twonky” by Henry Kuttner and C.L. Moore and “Killdozer!” by Theodore Sturgeon), whether it was EL-trains, automobiles, steam shovels, telescopes or toy soldiers. Her characters are often working class people like construction workers, motormen, conductors, truckers and steelworkers, though scientists, lawyers, teachers and journalists also appear. There is a certain noir sensibility to her stories and her descriptions of industry and urban life in the 1940s are dripping with atmosphere. In short, it’s good stuff and quite different both from the cosmic horror of H.P. Lovecraft (though Lovecraftian monsters occasionally show up in Harding’s work) and his acolytes and the more gothic horror of writers like Dorothy Quick. In many way, Harding’s stories are more reminiscent of Stephen King (whose 1983 horror novel Christine is maybe the last hurray of the haunted machinery story) than of her fellow Weird Tales authors of the 1930s and 1940s.

Armchair Fiction‘s Allison V. Harding collection is also getting some attention online. Sandy Ferber recently reviewed it for Fantasy Literature, as did Paperback Warrior, a blog that mostly reviews vintage crime novels, thrillers and men’s adventure novels. Both reviewers praise the stories and of course, also go into the mystery that is Allison V. Harding’s identity. And once you start to dig into Harding’s identity, you’ll quickly come across the claims that Allison V. Harding was a pen name for Lamont Buchanan rather than his wife Jean Milligan.

Sandy Ferber notes that some of the stories feel as if a man wrote them, some feel as if a woman wrote them and that it’s impossible to know either way. He also suggests that Lamont Buchanan and Jean Milligan may have been a couple writing together like Henry Kuttner and C.L. Moore. That’s one theory that actually makes a lot of sense.

The Paperback Warrior reviewer, meanwhile, comes to the conclusion that Allison V. Harding was a pen name for Lamont Buchanan, because no woman could have written those stories. And why? Let’s have a quote:

There is no way hell that these stories were written by a woman of 1940s America. The first two stories have no female characters at all, and the even the third story is told through a male’s eyes. Furthermore, “The Frightened Engineer” has many technical details about turnpike road construction, a stereotypically manly pursuit in the 1940s.

Another large factor supporting this conclusion is that these stories are really good, even excellent. Without question, a female author was capable of excellence. However, I’m not buying for a second that the talented author of these stories threw her typewriter out the window without authoring another published word for the next 53 years of her life.

Sorry, but much as I like the Paperback Warrior blog otherwise (cause they do excellent work spotlighting vintage crime and adventure fiction), that’s just egregiously sexist. First of all, it’s not actually all that easy to tell an author’s gender by their writing alone. When I put some of my own writing into that online tool that supposedly determines the author’s gender from a writing sample, the program usually thinks I’m female when I put in a sample of my fiction and male when I put in a sample of my non-fiction. However, I don’t actually change genders, depending on whether I’m writing fiction or non-fiction.

We all know the case of James Tiptree Jr., whose writing Robert Silverberg described as “ineluctably masculine”, until Tiptree was revealed to be a woman, Alice B. Sheldon – oops. And having read Tiptree’s/Sheldon’s fiction many years after her identity was revealed, i.e. with the benefit of hindsight, I always thought that several of her stories were very obviously written by a woman. On the other hand, neither Leigh Brackett nor Andre Norton have ever struck me as particularly feminine writers. Both frequently had male POV characters. Norton wrote a lot of boys’ own adventures in space and Brackett’s stories featured macho heroes and had a very hardboiled noirish style. On the other hand, Dorothy Quick almost always had female POV characters and is the only golden age writer of any gender whose stories consistently pass the Bechdel test. C.L. Moore and Margaret St. Clair can go either way, with some stories feeling more female and others feeling more male. The only published story (under that name) by Ruth Washburn not only isn’t particularly feminine and has a male POV character, the lone female character is also a stereotyped shrewish wife. The 1945 Retro Hugo finalist The Winged Man, credited solely to E. Mayne Hull, but attributed to Hull and her husband A.E. van Vogt, features an all-male submarine crew with the only female characters being a bunch of offensive amazon stereotypes from the future escorting a bridezilla to her wedding who are too stupid to understand the science of WWII era submarines. The sole female character in “The Martian and the Milkmaid” by Frances M. Deegan is also something of a caricature, though Deegan also hints that her (male) narrator is not exactly reliable. Alice-Mary Schnirring’s “The Dear Departed” barely has any female characters at all, as does “The Werewolf’s Howl” by Brooke Byrne. So in short, the women SFF writers of the golden age and beyond were all over the place with regard to female POV characters and themes.

Also, it’s quite an assumption to make that a woman in the 1940s wouldn’t have been familiar with the technical details of construction work, EL-trains, railroads, bulldozers, etc… that are found in Allison V. Harding’s work. For starters, there have always been women who were interested in technology. And in the 1940s, a lot of women were actually working in factories, as conductors, train drivers and in other traditionally male occupations to replace the soldiers that were fighting overseas. Furthermore, Jean Milligan may have come into contact with the technical details in her job as an attorney, if she worked on contracts, liability cases and the like. And according to the information Tellers of Weird Tales dug up, one of her sisters was married to an engineer, so she might have gotten the details from her brother-in-law. Or maybe she simply found heavy machinery fascinating. We have no way of knowing.

As for why Allison V. Harding suddenly stopped writing, people of all genders stop writing for all sorts of reasons. Furthermore, a lot of pulp authors just seem to vanish after a handful of stories, only to show up in a different genre later on. For example, Mona Farnsworth had five stories published in Unknown in 1939/1940 and then seemingly vanished, until she reappeared as an author of fourteen gothic romances in the 1970s. Did she really stop writing during the thirty years inbetween or did she work in a different genre or under another name? That’s something else we’ll probably never know.

As for the arguments that Allison V. Harding was really Charles Lamont Buchanan, I don’t find them all that convincing. For starters, there was no taboo against editors publishing their own work during the pulp era. John W. Campbell and Frederick Pohl both published their own work, though they used pen names, and no one objected. Pohl also published his then wife Judith Merril. So if Lamont Buchanan really did write the stories, he had a reason to use a pen name, but no reason to hide his identity from Weird Tales editor Dorothy McIlwraith. And even if Lamont Buchanan wrote the stories, it makes no sense for him to use a female pen name. Yes, Weird Tales was probably the most woman-friendly SFF magazine of the pulp era with a large female readership and a lot of female contributors, but the majority of the writers were still male. And while pen names were common during the pulp era, cross-gender pen names were not all that common and I can’t think of a single example of a male writer using a female pseudonym during the pulp era. So why would Lamont Buchanan use a female pen name for stories that were not even particularly feminine in tone and subject matter?

ETA: German critic and fan Peter Schmitt points out that Robert A. W. Lowndes did publish two stories “The Leapers” and “Passage to Sharanee” in 1942 under the female pen name Carol Grey. Bobby Derie confirms this, so there is at least one precendent. Bobby Derie also points out that H.P. Lovecraft occasionally ghostwrote for women writers and that the resulting stories appeared under the women’s names.

Peter Schmitt has also dug up a story attributed to Donald Matheson in the table of contents but to Florence Matheson in the byline in September 1934 issue of Amazing Stories. ISFDB lists the author as Florence rather than Donald. Whoever they were, we know nothing about them.

The fact that Allison V. Harding’s stories only appeared in Weird Tales and Short Stories, i.e. magazines Buchanan and Dorothy McIlwraith co-edited, is not as big a clue as it seems either, for plenty of pulp authors only wrote for one magazine or one publisher. For example, the above mentioned Frances M. Deegan almost exclusively wrote for magazines of the Ziff-Davis company, because the company was based in her hometown and she had developed a good relationship with editor Raymond F. Palmer, as she explained in the biographical note that went with one of her stories. Interestingly, Frances M. Deegan was also suspected of being either a house name or the wife of a Ziff-Davis assistant editor, who also happened to be called Frances, though those claims have been largely debunked.

Another argument is that no one in Jean Milligan’s family knew she was a writer. However, not every writer shares their work with their family and the family quite often doesn’t care either. If you asked the members of my extended family, quite a few probably have no idea that I’m a writer either. Furthermore, Jean Milligan might well have wanted to keep her writing secret from her family. It’s also possible that she worried being published in a lurid pulp magazine like Weird Tales (though it was somewhat less lurid by the time Harding was publishing there) might have harmed her professional reputation. That’s why C.L. Moore published under her initials, after all, because she feared that her employer, a bank, might find out.

As for the claim that Lamont Buchanan was both an editor and a writer of non-fiction, whereas Jean Milligan was not known to have written anything other than legal briefs, I’m not sure why writing books about baseball and the history of the Confederacy or the two party system in the US would necessarily predispose someone more to writing horror and urban fantasy than writing legal briefs would. And comparing the writing style of Lamont Buchanan’s non-fiction books to the Harding stories would only be of limited use, because fiction and non-fiction are different, though certain idiosynchracies might pop up.

ETA2: Anya Martin of the Outer Dark podcast and symposium, who has done some research into the mystery that is Allison V. Harding, points out on Twitter that Jean Milligan wrote during her teens and was a member of her high school literary club. Anya Martin has also dug up a page from Jean Milligan’s high school yearbook and an article from her hometown paper the New Canaan Advertiser, which confirm her literary activities.

Jean Milligan died in 2004, Lamont Buchanan in 2015, so it’s no longer possible to ask them directly, though it was possible well into the 21st century (and I’m side-eying all the Weird Tales scholars who’d rather pore over a crumpled shopping list by H.P. Lovecraft than interview the few surviving Weird Tales contributors/possible contributors).

As it is, we will probably never know for sure who wrote the Allison V. Harding stories, whether it was Jean Milligan, Lamont Buchanan or both of them together.  However, the strongest evidence we have is the fact that the cheques were adressed to Jean Milligan and the simplest explanation is that the person to whom the cheques were adressed was also the author of the stories. So what’s the need to come up with a convoluted theory to explain why someone else wrote the stories than the person whose name was on the cheques?

It’s still peddled as received wisdom in many circles (and not just the obvious ones either – you find this misconception both on the left and on the right) that women did not read or write speculative fiction before [insert date here]. Like pretty much any received wisdom, this is wrong. On the contrary, there were quite a lot of women writing science fiction, fantasy and horror even during the golden and radium ages, let alone later. Just as there were women editors, artists,  fans, etc… And it wasn’t just the one or two token women whose names we still remember either, but a lot of women whose names have been forgotten. The straight white boys’ club of SFF never existed.

However, it’s also true that women writers are less likely to be reprinted than male writers (though there are plenty of stories by male writers, including very good ones, which have never been reprinted either). The fact that early anthologies like The Great SF Stories anthologies edited by Isaac Asimov and Martin Greenberg tended to favour stories originally published in Astounding over stories originally published in Weird Tales or Planet Stories or Thrilling Wonder Stories, which were more female friendly, doesn’t help either. And while August Derleth did a lot of good work keeping the work of Weird Tales authors in print via Arkham House, he also favoured the male contributors to Weird Tales over the women.

The misconception that SFF was a white boys’ club prior to [insert date here] came about because women writers are more likely to be forgotten due to a combination of factors. Sometimes, you can see this happening in real time, e.g. how the Cyberpunks consigned the feminist SF of the 1970s to the memory hole as “stale” and “not worth remembering”. And how many of us bought into this claim hook, line and sinker? I certainly did, until I actually looked at Hugo and Nebula finalists of the 1970s and found not just a whole lot of good works, but also a whole lot of women.

Furthermore, the whole barrage of tactics Joanna Russ outlined in How to Suppress Women’s Writing is also still aimed at the women writers of our genre’s past. Over the past seventy years, Poor Allison V. Harding has been subjected to a whole bunch of them. First, we have “pollution of agency” a.k.a. “She wrote it, but it’s not really art and she isn’t really an artist”. And so Harding’s stories have been dismissed as forgettable fillers that just took up space in the magazine, which could have been filled by H.P. Lovecraft or Robert E. Howard, if they hadn’t died six or respectively seven years before Harding started publishing.

And once people started realising that many of those Allison V. Harding stories are actually pretty good, we get “denial of agency” a.k.a. “She didn’t write it” (the claims that Charles Lamont Buchanan wrote the stories) with a side order of “false categorising” a.k.a. “She wrote it, but she had help”, in this case via categorising Jean Milligan as the girlfriend/wife and possible collaborator of Charles Lamont Buchanan rather than a writer in her own right.

Nor is Allison V. Harding the only victim of these tactics. We can see the same tactics on display with many of the women writers of the golden age and beyond.  For example, early reprint anthologies often attributed the collaborations between Henry Kuttner and C.L. Moore solely to Kuttner, even though we know that almost all of the Lewis Padget and Lawrence O’Donnell stories were collaborations. Thankfully, later day anthologists have corrected this. And as I explained in my Retro Review of “Black God’s Kiss”, C.L. Moore’s Jirel of Joiry stories also get hit with “pollution of agency” a.k.a. “She wrote it, but it’s not really art and she isn’t really an artist” in the form of “Well, those stories are not really sword and sorcery, because they’re not like the Conan stories”.

Frances M. Deegan, prolific contributor to Fantastic Adventures, Amazing Stories and several detective fiction pulps, was long considered a house name used either by the Ziff-Davis assistant editor William Hamling or his wife Frances Yerxa (who was a writer in her own right), even though evidence shows that Frances M. Deegan was a completely different person than Frances Yerxa.

E. Mayne Hull is also usually mentioned only as the wife of A.E. van Vogt, even though she was a writer in her own right. It’s also notable that the 1945 Retro Hugo finalist “The Winged Man” was attributed to both Hull and van Vogt (because ISFDB, which is usually the most reliable source in these matters, insists it’s a collaboration), even though the magazine publication in Astounding lists only Hull as the author.

Meanwhile, Dorothy Quick, who is one of my favourite golden age rediscoveries, is remembered more for having befriended Mark Twain at the age of eleven than for her stories, even though she was a fine writer and prolific contributor to Weird Tales, Unknown and other pulp magazines. Yet very little of her work has been reprinted, whereas much worse stories by male writers which appeared alongside Dorothy Quick’s work have been reprinted.

No one denies that Margaret St. Clair existed or claims that she was really a man, but we mainly remember her for two novels from the 1960s, Sign of the Labrys and The Shadow People, because Gary Gygax decided to list those in the Appendix N to the first edition of the Dungeons & Dragons Dungeon Master’s Handbook. And true, Sign of the Labrys is very good (sadly, I haven’t yet read The Shadow People). However, Margaret St. Clair had a lengthy career ranging from just after WWII to 1981 and wrote many excellent works, most of which are out of print, so we have a clear case of “isolation” a.k.a. “she wrote it, but she only wrote one [or two] of it”.

I don’t think it’s necessarily maliciousness or even intent that causes even well-meaning critics to dismiss the women SFF writers of the golden age and beyond. However, the patterns are very notable. And it’s sad that even though it has been almost forty years since How to Suppress Women’s Writing first came out, we’s still dealing with the same old tactics today.

 

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First Monday Free Fiction: Double-Cross

[image error]Welcome to the November 2020 edition of First Monday Free Fiction. To recap, inspired by Kristine Kathryn Rusch who posts a free short story every week on her blog, I’ll post a free story on every first Monday of the month. Well theoretically, this is the second Monday of November, because I forgot to post the story last week, but it’s still a free story and it will remain free to read on this blog for one month, then I’ll take it down and post another story.

Later this months, I will be releasing two new adventures of Anjali and Mikhail, my pair of intergalactic mercenaries on the run from two regimes that want them dead. So I thought I’d share Double-Cross, an earlier In Love and War adventure, with you today.

I tend to call the In Love and War series space opera romance, because the protagonists are a committed couple having adventures in space, but the individual stories are all over the genre map. This one has a strong cyberpunk vibe, largely because it was inspired by by two pieces of cyberpunk artwork, this one and this one. It also is a science fictional crime story. As with all the In Love and War stories, the cover art is by the hyper-talented Tithi Luadthong.

So accompany Anjali and Mikhail, as they retrieve some stolen medical nanites and deal with a…

Double-Cross

The independent rim world of Kyusu was infamous for its pervasive cloud cover and its constant, never-ending rain.

Landing on Kyusu was dangerous because of the low visibility. Yet its spaceport was one of the biggest on the rim. For Kyusu was also a major hub for both legal and illegal trade along the galactic rim.

The capital Shusaku was a neon-drenched maze of skyscrapers and open air markets offering literally any legal good in the galaxy and most of the illegal ones, too, provided you knew where to look.

A man and a woman strode side by side through the neon labyrinth that was Shukasu, their movements perfectly synched, indicating close companionship.

The man was tall with pale skin, striking blue eyes and long black hair that he wore tied back in a ponytail that was now dripping wet. He was clad in a long back synth-leather coat, the collar of which he’d pulled up against the rain. This was Captain Mikhail Alexeievich Grikov, formerly of the Republican Special Commando Forces, now wanted as a deserter and traitor.

The woman by his side was a good head shorter, with brown skin, sparkling dark eyes and black hair tied into a straggled braid. She was clad in utility pants and an electric blue tunic, topped by a poncho of transparent plastic as protection against the steady downpour. This was Lieutenant Anjali Patel, formerly of the Imperial Shakyri Expeditionary Corps, now wanted as a deserter and traitor.

They’d met on the battlefield of the eighty-eight year war between the Republic of United Planets and the Empire of Worlds, fallen in love and decided to go on the run together. Their flight had brought them to the independent worlds on the galactic rim, the only place in the galaxy where they could live in relative safety, far from the forces of the Empire and the Republic both that pursued them, determined to bring them to heel.

And now their flight had brought them to Kyusu, while their work as mercenaries had brought them to the rain-drenched markets of Shukasu.

Anjali looked up. Before her loomed two towers of stacked up freight containers, covered over and over in neon ads, many of them rendered in the boxy characters of the old script of Kyusu. A makeshift bridge stretched between the two towers, also covered in ads.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” she asked Mikhail, “Because I’m cold and soaking wet and not really keen on trudging through the rain for another couple of hours.”

“The pharmacist we interrogated said ‘the Open Market’. So unless you’re losing your touch…”

“I’m not,” Anjali replied.

The guy had practically peed himself as soon as he saw the dagger with the Shakyri crest at her waist. And afterwards he’d been only too eager to talk. He’d talked like the proverbial waterfall, confessing to every single substance of dubious legality he’d ever sold in his shop. No intimidation necessary, the problem was getting him to stop talking.

“…this should be the place.”

Anjali was still doubtful. “There are dozens, probably hundreds of markets all over the city. How can we be sure that this is the right one?”

In response, Mikhail pointed upwards at the makeshift bridge that stretched between the two towers. It was emblazoned with the words “Open Market” in Standard or rather what the Republicans insisted on calling Standard in their infinite arrogance.

“I’d say that’s a pretty big hint.”

Anjali still wasn’t convinced. “And how do we know that this is the Open Market the guy at the pharmacy was talking about? After all, the place where we found the pharmacist was also called Open Market.”

“Public Market,” Mikhail corrected.

“Same difference.”

“Not if you’re Kyusan, apparently.” Mikhail flashed her a quick smile. The rain pasted a few stray hairs to his forehead. “What’s the matter? I thought you liked markets and shopping.”

“I do,” Anjali said, “But not for days on end and not in constant rain.”

She tried to look dignified in spite of the downpour, but instead she only managed to look like a drowned kitten.

“And besides, we still haven’t found a decent Rajipuri spice merchant in this swamp. Let alone a clothing, jewellery or weapons merchant.”

To Anjali, the quality of a market was directly proportional to the number of Rajipuri merchants to be found there. And the many markets of Kyusu really sucked in that regard. Though she should probably grateful there was no jewellery merchant, cause that would only encourage Mikhail to buy her things they couldn’t afford and that weren’t appropriate for a mere peasant like her anyway.

“We did find a shop that sold bootlegs of Rajipuri vid dramas,” Mikhail reminded her, “You liked those.”

“I just want to know whether they’ll hang Roshani for that murder she didn’t commit or whether she’ll be saved at the last possible minute.”

“She’ll be saved, of course,” Mikhail said, “And then there’ll be a big song and dance number. Isn’t that how those stories always go?”

“Not always,” Anjali said. She’d tried to introduce Mikhail to the joys of Rajipuri vid dramas, but so far he failed to get it, “When I was a kid, we watched a vid drama where the heroine Chandara was actually hanged for a murder her husband committed. Okay, so maybe the fact that the drama was called Trial and Execution should have tipped us off, but it was still a shock. My sister Lalita was in tears for days.”

Mikhail flashed her a quick smile. “What about you?”

“I fantasised about breaking Chandara out of prison and making sure that bastard husband of hers was hanged instead.”

Mikhail winked at her. “You would have pulled it off, too. If Chandra…”

“Chandara.”

“…had been real. But now let’s get on with the mission, so we can go somewhere warm and dry and watch some of your new bootleg vids.”

“Maybe we could first stop at one of those noodle bars that are everywhere,” Anjali said, “Cause a bowl of hot noodles sounds heavenly just now.”

Mikhail nodded. “Sounds good. First mission, then noodles, then home.”

***

So Mikhail and Anjali ventured into the compound of converted shipping containers that made up the Open Market.

The mission was to retrieve a shipment of medical nano-agents that had been stolen from the smuggler kingpin who was hoping to make a fortune with them. Okay, so the client was a crook and the nanos were not just illegal, but also cheap knockoffs of the military grade medical nano-agents that coursed through Mikhail and Anjali’s veins. But a job was a job and beggars couldn’t be choosers. And so they went about their business, scanning the shops that made up the Open Market.

Half of the businesses could be dismissed out of hand. Stalls that sold fresh vegetables and prepared foods, clothing stores, body modification shops or businesses that sold com units and vid players were all unlikely to carry bootleg medical nanos.

“The pharmacist we interrogated did say the guy’s name was Shibuki, right?” Mikhail asked Anjali, when he was both thoroughly wet and thoroughly sick of running about in the rain.

“He definitely said Shibuki,” Anjali confirmed, squeezing water from her braid, “Too bad we don’t know which of these shops is owned by Shibuki, because we can’t read the script.” She shot Mikhail a questioning glance. “You can’t read that, can you?”

The script was similar to the one used on the Republican world of Shubashi. It was logographic script, complicated to learn. And though Mikhail had tried, once upon a long time ago, he’d never been very good at it.

“Not nearly well enough,” he admitted.

“So you can read that.” Anjali looked serious impressed. “Is there any language in the universe you don’t speak or read?”

“There are plenty of languages in the universe I neither speak nor read,” Mikhail countered, “As for this language, I can tell that shop over there offers hot noodles…”

He pointed at a business on the other side of the street, where patrons were sitting along an open bar, slurping noodles.

“…and that the one behind us sells hairstylers…”

“That’s no big deal,” Anjali said, “I can tell what those shops sell just by looking at the displays.”

“However, I can’t tell if any of them are owned by someone named Shibuki.”

“So how do we find this Shibuki then, if we can’t even read the language?” Anjali wanted to know.

Mikhail flashed her a quick smile. “Simple. We ask.”

Since the noodle bar across the road was too busy, they decided to try the hairstyler shop instead.

A chime rang, as they entered. The owner of the shop, a woman in her fifties with a complicated upswept hairdo that suggested she was the best customer of her own devices, bowed profusely and complimented Mikhail and Anjali on their beautiful hair. Then she immediately launched into a spiel about how her hairstylers could arrange that beautiful hair into the most elegant styles in mere minutes.

“I’m sorry,” Mikhail interrupted her, “But actually we’re looking for someone named Shibuki. Do you know where to find him?”

The woman scoffed. “You should rather invest in one of my products than in Shibuki’s services. My products will make you pretty. Shibuki’s just a hack.”

“Oh, we’re not planning on engaging Mr. Shibuki’s services,” Anjali, who’d been studying holos of the hairdos the stylers could produce, said, “We merely need to talk to him. And afterwards, we may be back for some of your very impressive products.”

The woman smiled, her painted lips forming a blood-red crescent. “You’ll find Shibuki’s shop at the corner of Akira and Yuzu Street. But be careful. Shibuki is a crook.”

Anjali replied with a smile and a bow of her own. “Thank you, madam, but I think you’ll find that we can take care of ourselves.”

“You’re not thinking of buying one of those things, are you?” Mikhail asked once they were outside in the rain again. He loved Anjali’s hair just as it was, even now when it was dripping wet, and he wasn’t at all sure how he’d feel about the towering beehives an automatic hairstyler produced.

Anjali shook her head. “Goodness, no. Not my style.” Her voice turned quiet. “I just thought how much Lalita would love something like that.”

Lalita was Anjali’s younger sister, aspiring to become an actress in those silly vid melodramas Anjali liked so much. Anjali hadn’t seen her or the rest of her family in almost ten years now, ever since she left to join the Shakyri Corps and her family disowned her.

Silently, Mikhail reached out to squeeze her hand. Sometimes, he forgot he wasn’t the only one who’d lost his family to the war.

They found Shibuki’s shop exactly where the woman had said it would be, on the corner of two neon-drenched streets. It turned out to be not a pharmacy or a clinic, as they had expected, but a body modification parlour.

“No wonder we couldn’t find it,” Mikhail remarked, “Who would look for medical nanos in a place like this?”

“Well, I guess getting yourself injected with nanos does count as body modification,” Anjali replied, “Besides, the body modification parlour could be a front for his real business.”

Mikhail looked at the shop, at the screens displaying functional piercings, cyber-implants and animated tattoos as well as more traditional forms of body modification.

“Have you ever been inside one of those places?” he asked.

Anjali shook her head. “Nope. A bindi and pierced ears is as far as I’ll go. You?”

Mikhail nodded. “When I was a cadet, I had the names of my parents and my sister tattooed on the inside of my wrist, so I wouldn’t forget them.”

Anjali was still holding his hand. She turned it over and gently pushed up the sleeve of his coat, revealing smooth, unmarked skin. “But…?”

“The nanos erased it, just like they erase all other old scars.” Except for the ones that really mattered.

“I’m sorry.”

“Brian Mayhew said it was all right, that I would always carry their names tattooed on my heart.”

When they entered the parlour, a tattooed and goateed man, Shibuki most likely, was inking a complicated animated tattoo into a customer’s back. The customer was a young man, pale-skinned and blonde. Not Kyusan then, but probably a spacer on shore leave.

Shibuki did not even turn around, he just waved vaguely at them. “Take a seat. I’ll be right with you.”

Mikhail and Anjali exchanged a glance.

“Should we wait?” Mikhail whispered, switching to the Imperial tongue, so they wouldn’t be overheard.

““I don’t know.” Anjali glanced over to where Shibuki was tracing the outline of a foam-crowned ocean wave onto his customer’s back. “Any idea how long that will take?”

Mikhail thought back at the time it took to tattoo three simple names in a dead language onto his wrist ten years ago.

“Too long,” he said and got to his feet.

“Excuse me,” he called out, switching back to Standard.

“I said I’ll be right with you,” Shibuki hissed and mumbled something under his breath in his own language.

Mikhail did not sit down again. “This will only take a minute,” he said, “Madame Yasuhiro sent us.”

The effect was immediate. Shibuki dropped the tattoo gun and ran, vanishing through a beaded curtain into what Mikhail assumed was the backroom.

Anjali sighed, “Why do they always do that?” and set off after him.

The customer sat up, a look of pure confusion in his eyes and a half finished ocean wave tattoo on his back.

“You’d best come back some other time,” Mikhail said to him, “Mr. Shibuki is busy right now.”

The customer nodded mutely, grabbed his coat and shirt and left.

Once he was gone, Mikhail locked the door and lowered the shutters, so they would not be disturbed.

Meanwhile, Anjali had easily caught up with Shibuki and had him in a control hold. She pushed him out of the backroom and onto the chair the customer had just vacated.

Mikhail drew his blaster and levelled it at Shibuki, while Anjali strapped him to the chair with a set of insta-cuffs.

“Is this how far Masako Yasuhiro has fallen that she has to hire offworlders now?” Shibuki spat, struggling futilely against his bonds.

Mikhail settled down on the counter, the blaster casually resting on his thigh. “All right, Mr. Shibuki, let’s make this as easy as possible. My partner and I are here to retrieve a shipment that Madame Yasuhiro seems to have misplaced. Tell us where it is and we’ll be on our way.”

“Do you take me for an idiot? I know how Masako Yasuhiro operates. I tell you where it is and you’ll kill me.”

“We’re troubleshooters, not assassins,” Mikhail countered, “You have my word that if you give us the medical nanites you appropriated, we’ll let you go.”

Shibuki was still defiant. “And what if I don’t?”

Anjali picked up the fallen tattoo gun and switched it on. The gun buzzed, the needle vibrating faster than the eye could see.

“You know, I always wanted to try out one of those,” she said to Mikhail.

“Be careful with that,” Shibuki snarled, a hint of panic in his voice.

Anjali ignored him. “In the Empire in the olden days, criminals and thieves were branded with their crimes. The practice was abolished, but I always thought it was a good idea to warn people, so they know who they’re dealing with.”

She turned to Mikhail.

“How about the word ‘thief’ tattooed on his forehead in colour-changing nano-ink? To warn his customers.”

She leant closer to Shibuki, the buzzing tattoo gun still in her hand.

“Stop,” Shibuki cried, “I’m no thief, I bought the medical nanos from Madame Yasuhiro for a fair price.”

“That’s not what she told us,” Mikhail countered.

“You work for Masako Yasuhiro and you want to warn people about me?” Shibuki exclaimed, “I’ll tell you something about your boss. She’ll double-cross you, because she double-crosses everyone. I bought the nanos from her fair and square. We just had a… a disagreement over the price.”

“That’s an issue you should take up with Madame Yasuhiro,” Mikhail said, “We’re merely here to retrieve the nanos. So if you could just tell us where they are…”

Shibuki practically deflated. “They’re in the bottle with chartreuse nano-ink.”

Mikhail and Anjali exchanged a look. “What the hell is chartreuse?” Mikhail wanted to know.

“Top shelf, second bottle on the right.”

Mikhail picked up the bottle in question. It looked just like the other bottles of nano-ink that Shibuki used for his animated tattoos, except that according to the label, this particular nano-ink came in an ugly, green-yellow colour.

“Looks like snot or puke,” Anjali remarked, “Who the fuck wants a tattoo in such an ugly colour?”

“No one,” Shibuki said, “That’s why I’m using it to hide the medical nanos. Because nobody in their right mind ever chooses that colour.”

Mikhail put the bottle in a pocket of his coat. Mission accomplished.

“All right, you’ve got the nanos,” Shibuki whined, “Now let me go. You promised.”

Mikhail nodded to Anjali who put down the tattoo gun and released the insta-cuffs that bound Shibuki to the chair.

However, Mikhail still kept him covered with his blaster. “No false moves. We leave and you can reopen your shop.”

“Reopen my shop?” Shibuki emitted a bitter laugh. “I’ll pack up my stuff and make a run for it and hope I can get out of the city before Masako Yasuhiro finds me.”

***

Some twenty minutes later, Mikhail and Anjali were strolling side by side through a street that was lined with eateries offering all sorts of delicacies.

Anjali cats a surreptitious glance over her shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” Mikhail asked quietly.

“I have a feeling we’re being watched.”

She paused and looked around again. The street was bustling with people, all engaged in business of their own.

“I can’t see anything, not even Kyusan Peacekeepers. Maybe I’m just paranoid.”

Mikhail shook his head. “I trust your instincts. So let’s be careful and stay alert.”

Anjali’s stomach chose that moment to grumble. “I’m still hungry,” she said, “So what about those noodles you promised me?”

Mikhail nodded and pointed at a shop a little down the street where the customers were sitting outside, slurping bowls of noodles. “That looks promising. So what do you say?”

A few minutes later, Mikhail and Anjali were sitting at one of the colourful plastic tables on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, a bowl of hot noodles in front of them. The food was excellent. The broth was hot and spicy, the noodles had just the right texture and the various toppings — seaweed flakes, chopped scallions, pickled vegetables, soy balls and a poached egg — complemented the noodles perfectly.

But in spite of the fine food, Anjali still felt that tell-tale prickle at the back of her neck that someone was watching them, stalking them. Once, she even thought that she’d spotted a flicker of movement from the corner of her eye. But when she turned around, all she saw was a large vid display on the side of a building that played what looked like a Kyusan vid drama.

Mikhail shot her a concerned look. “You’ve still got that feeling?”

Anjali nodded. “What about you?”

Mikhail considered for a moment, then he nodded. “I can’t put my finger on it, but something is wrong.”

“So what do we do?” Anjali asked.

“Finish our noodles, deliver the cargo and head back to our quarters.”

But they never got that far.

It was the briefest of moments. The tell-tale red dot of the targeting system of a sniper rifle, reflected for a split second in a condiment bottle on the table. But it was enough.

“Down,” Anjali yelled and hit the floor. Less than a second later, a projectile ripped through the awning of the noodle bar and lodged itself in the counter.

All around, the patrons screamed and made a run for it. Tables and chairs, bowls, glasses, chopsticks, noodles and condiment bottles went flying everywhere.

Anjali and Mikhail sought cover behind the counter, which was solid enough that a regular projectile could not penetrate it. They both had their weapons drawn.

“Fuck! I knew someone was watching us,” Anjali exclaimed.

“Can you see where the sniper is?”

Cautiously, Anjali peered over the edge of the counter and scanned the street, that was suddenly a lot emptier, now the civilians had fled. On the wall display she’d noted earlier, an over-made-up woman was engaged in what appeared to be a tense scene with a silver-haired man. Her complicated hairdo was marred by a human silhouette bearing a rifle.

“Up there, at the wall display.”

Another movement caught her eye. Not at the display, but along the wires that stretched across the street.

“Bad news. There’s two of them.”

“You sure?”

Anjali nodded. “The sniper and another who’s sitting on the wires. That one doesn’t seem to have a rifle, just…”

Anjali peered over the edge of the counter again.

“Looks like some kind of knife or… nope, it’s a sword.”

“Not the Republic then,” Mikhail said.

Anjali looked at the two dark figures again. They were clearly professionals, but they did not move like any soldiers she’d ever seen.

“Nor the Empire either.”

Mikhail fired over the edge of the counter into the general direction of the sniper, but only hit the wall display. It exploded in a shower of sparks and parts of the image went dark.

The sniper answered with a projectile that shattered a bowl and dumped broth and noodles onto them both.

“Must be local talent,” Mikhail remarked.

“But who? Shibuki? Cause he didn’t strike me like the type to pull off a stunt like this.”

Anjali peered over the edge of the counter again. “Fuck, the one with the sword is dropping to the street.”

“Is the street clear?”

Anjali nodded. “All civilians have fled. Just them and us.”

Mikhail’s eyes met hers. “All right. I’ll take care of the sniper, you handle the one with the sword.”

The second attacker had almost reached the ground now. He was clad in a black utility coverall. Above the damaged wall display, the sniper was still keeping watch.

Anjali and Mikhail nodded at each other and burst into action.

Mikhail jumped to his feet, his own blaster drawn. He fired. The sniper returned fire, but Mikhail was quicker. He dove for cover and the sniper’s bullet only hit a pot of noodles that was still simmering on the stove. They exchanged fire once more, then the sniper cried out and fell from the display onto the awning of a shop selling fragrant dumplings in wicker baskets.

Anjali did not even wait for Mikhail to do his part. She vaulted over the counter and met the second attacker on the rain-slick street. The man had his sword drawn. In response, Anjali drew her dagger.

For a few seconds, they just circled each other. The assassin suddenly lunged with his sword, but Anjali sidestepped his attack. Undaunted, the man swung his sword in a wide arc that would have decapitated Anjali, had she not ducked just in time.

However, the attack also left the swordsman’s flank wide open. Anjali used that chance and kicked him in the side with all her power. The man staggered, but he did not fall, not yet. And he still had the sword.

Time to change that. While the swordsman was off-balance, Anjali attacked again, this time aimed her kick at his wrist. Her foot connected and the man yelped, but he did not lose his sword.

He swung his sword once more at her, while Anjali slashed at him with her dagger. His blade only managed to slash the sleeve of plastic raincoat she wore. Anjali was luckier and drew blood. Only a little, but it was enough to slow the attacker down.

And then Mikhail was there, attacking the swordsman from the other side and drawing his attention long enough that Anjali could ram her dagger into his thigh. It was only a flesh wound, but it was enough to drive the attacker to one knee.

He tried to get up again at once, but the ever present rain came to their aid and the swordsman slipped in a puddle.

The fall itself wasn’t very bad, if the attacker’s sword hadn’t gotten in the way, neatly impaling him.

Both Mikhail and Anjali rushed to the swordsman’s side, but it was too late. The man was dying.

“Who?” Mikhail demanded, “Who hired you?”

The man looked at them. “Madame Yasuhiro,” he said, blood trickling from his mouth.

Anjali and Mikhail exchanged another glance.

“So Shibuki was right. Yasuhiro did try to double-cross us.” Anjali shook her head. “Where do you find those crooked clients?”

“They’re not all crooks,” Mikhail replied, ever so slightly wounded.

In the distance, the sirens of Peacekeeper groundcars wailed, drawing steadily closer.

“I suggest we leave, now.”

Anjali nodded. “And then?”

“Then we’ll pay a visit to Madame Yasuhiro.”

***

Masako Yasuhiro had hired the best security money could buy. But it wasn’t enough to keep a very angry and very determined Shakyri warrior and an equally determined and equally angry ex-member of the Republican Special Commando Forces out of her luxurious penthouse office atop one of Shusaku’s tallest buildings.

And so, once they’d disabled her security system and taken out her bodyguards, Mikhail and Anjali burst into the office of Masako Yasuhiro, their respective weapons drawn.

Masako Yasuhiro rose, as they entered, hands held to her sides, clearly visible. She was a striking woman, no longer young, but endowed with the smooth agelessness that cost a fortune to buy. Her jet-black hair was pulled into an intricate up-do and provided a stark contrast to her elegant white gown.

“So I take it you have recovered my merchandise, Mr. Grikov, Miss Patel. But why burst in here instead of making an appointment like civilised people?”

“You know why,” Anjali said, keeping her blaster trained on Masako, “By the way, those assassins you sent after us won’t be coming back.”

“That’s a pity,” Masako Yasuhiro said, “And they came so highly recommended, too. Still, it seems that I underestimated you. And since you’re here, I suspect you’ll want your payment.”

Untroubled by the blasters trained on her, Masako rounded her desk and pressed her thumb to a scanner concealed inside what appeared to be an antique cabinet. The door opened and Masako withdrew a small bag of synth-silk.

“Pearls,” she said, “Natural pearls. Extremely rare, extremely valuable and — unlike credits — untraceable. I suspect you prefer it that way.”

She tossed the bag at Anjali who caught it with one hand, the other still holding the blaster.

Anjali opened the bag and glanced inside. She’d only seen pearls in vid dramas so far, but these sure looked like the real deal. Her brother Milan would know for sure. After all, the last time she’d seen him, he’d been an apprentice silversmith, dealing with materials way too precious for a mere peasant like her.

“And now, if I could have my merchandise,” Masako said.

In response, Mikhail took the bottle of ugly green nano-ink from his pocket and set it down next to a potted plant that looked like a full-size tree shrunken to miniature size.

“Why?” he asked, “Why did you try to double-cross us? It can’t be about the payment, since you’re clearly willing and able to pay.”

Masako settled down behind her desk again. “I know who you are, who you really are.”

She pressed a button and an old service portrait of Mikhail, with his hair still cut brutally short, appeared on the wall screen behind her.

“Grikov, Mikhail Alexeievich, Captain, former member of the Republican Special Commando Forces, wanted for desertion, defection and high treason. And…”

Masaki swiped across the air and another image appeared, a service portrait of Anjali in the green and gold uniform of the Shakyri Corps.

“Patel, Anjali, Lieutenant, member of the Imperial Shakyri Expeditionary Corps, wanted for desertion, high treason and fraternising with the enemy.”

Masako raised a perfectly arched eyebrow.

“The prize on both your heads is extremely impressive, too.”

“Is that why you did it?” Anjali demanded, “To collect the bounty for us?”

“Oh, please.” Masako rose again and picked up the bottle of medical nanos disguised as tattoo ink. “The bounty would merely have been a bonus — it does say dead or alive, after all. But the real prize is the blood flowing through both your veins. Or rather what is contained therein.”

Masako placed the bottle in her concealed safe.

“Don’t look so shocked, Mr. Grikov. I deal in bootleg medical nano-agents. Of course, I know what the secret of the Republican Special Commando Forces is. My bootlegs are only a pale copy. The nanos in your veins, Mr. Grikov, are the real deal and worth a fortune. Even better…”

Masako closed the safe again.

“…it appears the same nanos are flowing through your veins as well, Miss Patel. Which is fascinating. For personally, I had no idea that sexual transmission of medical nanos was even possible.”

“It’s not,” Anjali said.

“It wasn’t like that,” Mikhail said.

Masako cut them off with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“It’s really none of my business. And now take your payment and leave.”

“And why should we do that, considering you tried to double-cross us?” Mikhail wanted to know.

“He’s right,” Anjali added, “Why shouldn’t we take you out here and now? Or better yet, call in the Peacekeepers, so they can tear your operation apart.”

Masako seemed utterly unruffled by the threat. “Yes, I suppose you could do that. On the other hand, I’m a professional and I know when I’ve lost. And if you leave now, you still have enough time to buy a passage off world, before the representatives of your government arrive. Both your governments.”

“You called in the Republic?” Mikhail demanded.

“And the Empire?”

“Of course. They’re paying good money, even for your exsanguinated corpses. And I am, above all, a businesswoman. And I think you’re, too.”

Masako rose and bowed to them, a clear note of respect in her bearing.

“It was nothing personal,” she said, “And the pearls are worth more than the bootleg nanos, much more. So I suggest you take the pearls and run. Leave Kyusu and live to fight another day. After all…”

She bowed again, deeper this time.

“…we’re all professionals here.”

The End…

***

That’s it for this month’s edition of First Monday Free Fiction. Check back next month, when a new story will be posted.

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The Mandalorian Deals with Monsters and the Troubles of Parenthood in “The Passenger”

It’s time for my episode by episode reviews of season 2 of The Mandalorian again. Previous installments (well, actually just one and an aggregate review of season 1) may be found here.

And yes, I’m still annoyed at whoever thought it was a good idea to have Star Trek Discovery and The Mandalorian air not just at the same time, but on consecutive days. Have some consideration for the reviewers, particularly those of us who are not tied to the big pop culture websites.

Warning: Spoilers beyond this point!

“The Passenger” begins where last week’s episode “The Marshall” left off. Mando and Baby Yoda are on their way back to Mos Eisley with a chunk of krayt dragon meat and Boba Fett’s sarlacc battered armour. However, before they can get there they are ambushed by what thankfully only turns out to be a bunch of garden variety bandits. Life is certainly rough on the fringes of the Star Wars universe and once again, we see that the fall of the Empire hasn’t improved life for the majority of the population at all. For the New Republic isn’t interested in doing anything about the rampant crime problem on the galactic rim. They have other concerns, as we’ll eventually see.

The bandits trash Mando’s speeder bike and unseat both Mando and Baby Yoda with the old rope trick that the Ewoks already successfully used in Return of the Jedi. Mando is able to fight off three of the bandits without any problems, but the fourth – a diminuitive being which is either a droid dressed like a jawa or a cyborg jawa – takes Baby Yoda hostage and puts a knife to the little one’s throat.

Now we get Mando in full Papa Bear mode. He tells the cyborg jawa (sorry, but I just like the idea) that if he hurts Baby Yoda, there’s no place in the universe where Mando won’t find him. I’d believe him, too. Mando also offers the cyborg jawa whatever he wants of the wreckage and cargo in exchange for Baby Yoda. The cyborg jawa wants the jetpack – Mando’s sparkling new jetpack, not Boba Fett’s battered one – so Mando gives it to him and the cyborg jawa finally lets Baby Yoda go. The little one runs to Daddy as fast as his little feet will carry him. Baby Yoda is clearly in the development phase where babies and toddlers like to explore the world around them. But sometimes, that world is just too scary and all a baby – even a fifty-year-old baby with Force powers – wants is Daddy. I strongly suspect that a large part of the reason why everybody loves Baby Yoda is not just because he is incredibly cute, but also because he behaves very much like a real small child would.

Once Mando and Baby Yoda are reunited, Mando pushes a few buttons on the remote control on his armour and the jetpack first throws off the insolent cyborg jawa and then returns to Daddy as well. Of course, the speeder bike is still trashed, but that dosn’t stop Mando. He just walks all the way to Mos Eisley, carrying Baby Yoda, Boba Fett’s armour and the rest of the cargo.

Once in Mos Eisley, we get a glimpse of the cantina (Does Mos Eisley only have one bar or is the cantina just the coolest bar in town?), where Peli Motto is playing cards with an insectoid being she calls Doctor Mandible. Doctor Mandible looks very much like a giant ant, which probably an in-joke, because Peyton Reed, who directed this episode, is best known for directing the Ant-Man films.

According to Peli Motto, Doctor Mandible knows someone who knows someone who knows where to find some Mandalorians. However, in order for Mandible to spill the beans, Mando needs to join the sabaac game they’re playing and the stakes are quite high. Relunctantly, Mando joins and Peli promptly fleeces them both.

I wasn’t familiar with actress Amy Sedaris beyond a washing powder commercial in which she appeared a few years ago, but I like Peli Motto a lot. She’s a tough frontier woman who does what she has to to get by. Peli Motto obviously likes Mando and Baby Yoda, but that doesn’t stop her from fleecing him. And so she not just tricks him into joining the card game, but she also gets Mando to give her his chunk of krayt dragon meat (which she has a droid grill on a podracer engine). Peli Motto also has no time for any macho posturing. When Mando shows up with Boba Fett’s battered armour, she takes one look at it and says, “Oh, you finally found another Mandalorian and you killed him.”

The person Doctor Mandible knows who knows where to find more Mandalorians turns out to be an alien woman. The character and her species have no name and since Mando doesn’t speak her language, she can’t tell him her name either. The credits list her as “Frog Lady”. The name is appropriate, because in many ways, the Frog Lady looks like a character from Wind in the Willows who has accidentally wandered into the Star Wars universe. The Frog Lady indeed knows where to find more Mandalorians and they’re nearby, too, on a world named Trask. However, there’s a catch. For the Frog Lady wants Mando to take her and her eggs (which she carries around in a glass container filled with blue liquid) to Trask, where her husband is waiting for her to fertilise the eggs. Those eggs are the last (and probably only) eggs she’ll ever lay and they need to be on Trask by a certain time or the Frog Lady will never have a family of her own. Furthermore, the eggs cannot tolerate hyperspace travel, so Mando will have to take the Frog Lady to Trask at sublight speeds.

Mando isn’t at all happy about this. He’s not a taxi service, as he points out, and besides, the Star Wars galaxy is a dangerous place full of pirates and bandits and way too dangerous for sublight travel. But a deal is a deal and so Mando takes the Frog Lady and her eggs to Trask.

The trouble starts very soon. First of all, Baby Yoda is very fascinated by the Frog Lady’s egg container. And the reason he is fascinated is because he thinks those eggs are very yummy. Mando catches him in the act and valiantly tries to stop him, but Baby Yoda is a toddler and he’s not listening to anybody. Several critics are troubled by the fact that Baby Yoda snacks on the eggs of an intelligent species – the last and maybe only eggs the poor Frog Lady will ever have. I’m not wild on that aspect myself. Yes, the Star Wars universe is a place where there’s always a bigger fish to quote Qui Gon Jinn and we know that Baby Yoda is carnivorous, but eating the eggs of an intelligent species is still wrong. And yes, he’s a toddler who doesn’t grasp the impact of what he has done, but that’s why he needs his Daddy to teach him right from wrong. Which Mando tries, though not very successfully so far. And indeed, Guardian reviewer Paul MacInnes views the episode as an analogy on the troubles of parenting.

Because it’s a long trip, Mando eventually goes to sleep and we finally see his and Baby Yoda’s sleeping arrangements. Turns out that Mando’s bunk is in a compartment we saw in an earlier episode where it was used to keep Baby Yoda safe and out of trouble. And yes, he sleeps in his armour. Baby Yoda, meanwhile, has his own dedicated hammock, which is very cute.

Mando’s nap is rudely interrupted, when the Razor Crest gets company. Luckily for Mando, the ships hailing the Razor Crest are not bandits or space pirates, but New Republic X-wings, so he and his passengers should be safe for now. The X-Wings are on patrol, looking for Imperial holdouts. And since the Razor Crest is a clone war troop ship, it attracted their attention. The X-wing pilots are played by Paul Sun-Hyung Lee and Mandalorian co-producer Dave Filoni who look as if they’ve just stepped out of 1977, but then it’s always 1977 in the Star Wars universe. Mando assures the X-Wings that he’s not with the Empire, but the X-wing pilots insist that every ship needs to have a transponder now, which the Razor Crest doesn’t have. Mando assures them he’ll get it fixed during his next stop and wishes them the least enthusiastic “May the Force Be With You” you’ve ever heard. However, the X-wing pilots demand the ship’s log to verify his identity. Mando tries to stall, but when he sends them the log, the X-wings suddenly go in attack position. Mando decides to take that as a cue to get the hell out of there and a merry space chase ensues that soon leads into the atmosphere of an icy planet.

Mando shakes the X-wings off by landing the Razor Crest in an ice cave. However, the ship is too heavy for the ice layer, so the ice shatters and the Razor Crest falls deeper into the cave and is badly damaged in the process. Mando is understandably pissed off. His ship is trashed and they’re all trapped on an ice planet. Mando also fears that once night falls, he, Baby Yoda as well as the Frog Lady and her eggs might freeze to death. So he rigs up a heater and some emergency rations, which Baby Yoda eats with considerably less enthusiasm than frog eggs. But then adult Yoda displayed a similar lack of enthusiasm about Luke’s emergency rations of Dagobah.

Since there is nothing he can do for now, Mando goes to sleep and Baby Yoda huddles close to Daddy in a moment that is just incredibly cute. Mando is once more rudely awoken by the voice of an old enemy, the villainous android Zero whom Mando had shot way back in the season 1 episode “The Prisoner”. However, Zero has not come back to life, but the Frog Lady has used the vocaliser in his severed head to communicate with Mando and guilt him – by appealing both to his Mandalorian pride and the fact that he is a parent, too – into repairing the Razor Crest and getting her to Trask.

So Mando gets on the job, while Baby Yoda frolicks about in the snow. And once again, he behaves like a real toddler would, when they see snow for the very first time. Meanwhile, the Frog Lady has wandered off, taking her eggs along, in what is a spectacularly bad idea. After all, they are on an unknown planet in a cave in the Star Wars universe. And while in the Star Trek universe, you can find mythical shrines and sacred pools in caves, in the Star Wars universe, there is only one thing to be found inside a cave and that’s monsters. Honestly, has there ever been a single cave in Star Wars which was not inhabited by a monster?

Mando and Baby Yoda follow the Frog Lady and find her and her eggs taking a bath in a hot spring. Yes, I understand that the Frog Lady is cold, she’s an amphibian, after all, but deciding to take a bath in the middle of a crisis makes little sense. Also, if she’s so eager to get herself and her eggs off the planet, why doesn’t she help Mando with the repairs? Seeing that she could rig up a communicator out of a severed droid head, she clearly has the skills.

Mando tells the Frog Lady in no uncertain terms to gather her eggs and go, because it’s not safe. And because the Frog Lady has a lot of eggs, he helps her gather them. Baby Yoda wants to help, too, but Mando tells him “No”, because he worries – not without reason – that Baby Yoda will gobble up another egg. So Baby Yoda wanders off towards some very sinister looking nodules in the cave, which look highly reminiscent of the Alien eggs from the other late 1970s filmic science fiction franchise. And indeed there is an Alien vibe to this whole episode, from Peli Motto basically cosplaying Ripley from Alien to the sinister eggs. One of the eggs starts to open and Baby Yoda waddles over, still eager for a snack. Uh-oh.

Inside the egg, there is a small white spider critter, which Baby Yoda promptly eats. However, there are a lot more eggs and they’re opening, too. Double uh-oh.

Mando finally catches on to what his happening, helps the Frog Lady gather the rest of her eggs and rescue Baby Yoda from a bunch of very pissed off mini-spiders. This soon draws somewhat bigger spiders and then even bigger spiders and finally a huge spider the size of a house. Triple uh-oh.

Now our trio are on the run. Frog Lady hops ahead on all fours – and yes, she does move like a frog. Mando shoots spiders, while carrying the eggs and Baby Yoda. Mando blows up the tunnel, bringing down the roof on the giant spider, but there are still a lot of little ones. The three make it back to the Razor Crest, but the spiders are swarming the ship. Mando shoots and even deploys his flame thrower, but there are just too many for him. Finally, he, Frog Lady and Baby Yoda pile into the cockpit, Mando shoots the last of the spiders, closes the door and is about to take off. However, the giant spider Mando buried in the cave isn’t dead. It suddenly shows up above the Razor Crest, effectively pinning the ship to the gound, and tries to bite its way into the cockpit with its very sharp teeth.

The spider creatures are called the krykna and first appeared in some unused Empire Strikes Back concept art by Ralph McQuarrie, as John Saavedra explains at Den of Geek. They later appeared in some of the tie-in novels as well as in the Star Wars: Rebels cartoon. This is their first live action appearance, if you can call CGI critters live action.

All seems lost for our heroes – or is it? For just as the giant spider is about the swallow the Razor Crest and her crew whole, laser fire can be heard outside the ship. Someone has come to our heroes’ rescue, but who?

The rescuers turn out to be none other than the two X-wing pilots who – though obviously not the sharpest knives in Princess Leia’s cutlery drawer – have finally tracked down the Razor Crest and just in the knick of time, too. The pilots make spider barbecue and inform Mando that they’ve checked his record and found that there is an outstanding arrest warrant for him due to his part in the prison break from the season 1 episode “The Prisoner”. However, the record also shows that Mando helped to apprehend several dangerous criminals – well, that is his job, after all – and that he risked his life to protect a New Republic officer during that same prison break. So they’ve decided to let Mando go… for now. But woe betide him, if they ever catch him without that transponder again.

The portrayal of the New Republic in The Mandalorian has always been ambivalent and “The Passenger” reinforces that impression. For starters, the New Republic are obviously pretty useless. Instead of doing something about the crime, corruption and slavery running rampant in the Star Wars galaxy – Tatooine alone really needs a good clean-up and there are probably a hundred similar planets out there – or tackling the huge social issue of homeless orphans at the mercy of whoever will take them, the New Republic wastes its time by harrassing passing space ships for minor traffic regulations.

We also see that as far as the ordinary citizens of the Star Wars galaxy are concerned, not a lot has changed now the Empire is gone. Yes, there is a new sheriff in town, but for the vast majority of people in Star Wars galaxy, life is still a hardscrabble existence. And with the Empire gone and the New Republic weak, some things like the rampant crime and slavery problem have even gotten worse.

The scenes with the X-wing pilots also serve as a reminder of Mando’s outsider status. The Mandalorians clearly did not get along with the Empire – the Fetts notwithstanding – since the Empire tried to wipe them out, but they don’t really trust the New Republic either. Mando’s resigned and unenthusiastic “May the Force Be With You” says it all, really. To an outlaw like him, one regime is much like the other and the best thing one can do is to keep under the radar.

In many ways, The Mandalorian shows the broken people and worlds that the war between the Empire and the Rebellion left behind, whether it’s ex-Rebel trooper Cara Dune, ex-Imperial magistrate turned bounty hunter Greef Carga, the ex-Imperial slave turned moisture farmer Kuill, Werner Herzog’s unnamed character trying to hold on to the lost Empire, Baby Yoda who has become an asset all sides fight over, even though he’s only a toddler, or Mando himself who’s lost everything more than once and just tries to somehow muddle through. Here we have another parallel to the western, for the cowboys and gunslingers of the historical Old West were often disaffected Civil War veterans. A large number of them were also black, former slaves looking for a better life. Interestingly, the actual western genre rarely touches on this aspect – and indeed it took me a long time to make the connection – probably because the Civil War was (and is) still a raw wound. Space westerns handle this aspect better, probably because the space setting allows writers to address themes that would be too raw to tackle in a real world setting. See Firefly, where Joss Whedon sneakily made American viewers side with the analogues of former Confederate soldiers. Or see The Mandalorian, which shows the lost and broken people on all sides.

“The Passenger” ends with Mando, Baby Yoda, the Frog Lady and her eggs (and from the look she gives Baby Yoda as she wraps her arms around the egg container, she knows exactly what he’s done) crammed into the cockpit of the Razor Crest – since the rest of the ship is full of holes – and on their way to Trask once more. Mando goes to sleep, Baby Yoda (who has managed to grab yet another egg) on his lap, and this time he actually gets to sleep. At least until next week.

Compared to last week’s episode, this episode feels very slight. Not a lot happens except that Mando makes an unscheduled stop-over on an ice planet and fights some monsters. Quite a few reviewers such as Tor.com‘s Emmet Asher-Perrin or The AV-Club‘s Katie Rife were also disappointed, because the episode was so slight and also doesn’t address the still open mysteries such as Moff Gideon and the darksabre or who the scarred person with Temuera Morrison’s face we glimpsed last week on Tatooine was.

However, so far season 2 of The Mandalorian is remarkably similar to season 1. And in “The Child”, the second episode of season 2 (which was nominated for a Nebula Award after all), Mando hangs out with a lot of non-human creatures, has his ship trashed, loses a fight against a bunch of jawas, fights a big monster – the mudhorn which is now his sigil – and would have lost, if not for outside intervention – in that case by Baby Yoda using his Force powers. In short, the second episode of season 2 has almost the same plot – or lack thereof – as the second episode of season 1. The Mandalorian is a show that takes its time. Yes, the showrunners know that we have questions and that we’re burning to learn more about Moff Gideon and the darksabre and Temuera Morrison’s character. And they’ll get to those questions – eventually. But they also like to take detours along the way and if that means that Mando will spend an episode fighting monsters, then he will.

That said, I do feel that “The Passenger” falls a little flat compared to last season’s “The Child”. A large part of the problem is that unlike Kuill, with whom Mando hung out during “The Child”, Frog Lady doesn’t talk much. And indeed, the episode wuld have worked better if Frog Lady had been given more dialogue, either on her own or via the Zero head. A heart to heart between Mando and Frog Lady about the challenges of parenthood would certainly have been nice.

If last week’s episode played up the western elements, this episode plays up the pulp science fiction elements. In many ways, “The Passenger” feels like a short story from a 1940s issue of Planet Stories. Furthermore, the structure of The Mandalorian with its fairly short serialised chapters is also reminiscent of the movie serials of the 1930s and 1940s, where Flash Gordon or Buck Rogers would occasionally spend an episode stumbling through ice caves and fighting cardboard monsters as well. The Flash Gordon and Buck Rogers serials have long been identified as one of the main roots from which Star Wars sprang (though my teen self, who watched those serials after I had watched Star Wars, was utterly baffled by this, because they looked so very cheap and silly), so it’s certainly fitting for The Mandalorian to go back to that structure.

All in all, this was a fun but slight episode of The Mandalorian. But then, this has always been a show where the whole is bigger than the parts. And I for one look forward to where Mando and Baby Yoda will be going next.

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Star Trek Discovery Deals with Trauma and Recovery in “Forget Me Not”

Here is the latest installment in my ongoing episode by episode reviews of season 3 of Star Trek Discovery. Reviews of previous episodes may be found here.

Warning: Spoilers behind the cut!

“Forget Me Not” once again continues where last week’s episode left off, as the Discovery crew attempts to unravel the mystery of their newest crewmember Adira. To recap, Adira is a young human who was bonded with a Trill symbiont that once inhabited Starfleet admiral Sanna Tal. And since Sanna Tal knows where Starfleet moved their headquarters, talking to Tal’s symbiont is of vital importance to the Discovery crew. There is only one problem. Adira can’t access Tal’s memories and also has no memories of their own life prior to bonding with Tal.

Doctor Pollard and Doctor Culber examine Adira and decide that they are physically healthy, even though they do find it rather worrying that the symbiont is wrapped around Adira’s heart. “It protects me”, Adira declares.

Since the Discovery crew knows very little about Trill symbionts and Trill biology (though AV Club reviewer Zack Handlen points out that the Discovery shouldn’t be familiar with the Trill at all, since they showed up at a later point in the Star Trek timeline), they decide to take Adira to the Trill homeworld to see if the Trill can help. The Trill are actually happy to see the Discovery (which is a first for this season), since they haven’t seen a Starfleet ship for a long time now. They are even happier when they hear that the Discovery has a Trill symbiont and its host on board, for the Burn had the Trills badly and left many symbionts stranded around the galaxy, unable to come home. The Burn also killed off many suitable hosts, so there are now not enough hosts for all symbionts. So the return of any symbiont to the fold is a reason for the Trill to rejoice.

Initially, Doctor Culber, with whom Adira has bonded, is supposed to accompany them. But Culber thinks that Michael would make a better travelling companion. A doctor is not really needed for the mission and Culber feels that Michael, who has after all spent a whole year lost and alone in a world she doesn’t understand, would be better able to support Adira who is similarly lost.

The exchange between Michael and Culber in her quarters has some nice character moments in an episode that is brimming with nice character moments. Culber notes that Michael’s quarters look different, less barren than before. And the new bedspread and the various decorative items likely are mementos of her travels with Book. Culber also tells Michael point blank that she is a “responsibility hoarder”, which is so absolutely accurate. In turn, Michael confesses that she still isn’t sure if Discovery is her home anymore, though she’s trying to fit in.

So Michael and Adira take a shuttle down to the Trill homeworld. I actually thought that this was the first time we’ve ever seen the Trill homeworld, but according to Tor.com reviewer Keith R.A. DeCandido, we’ve seen it before in a Deep Space Nine episode entitled “Equilibrium”. Now I never cared for Deep Space Nine and only watched it on and off, so it’s quite possible I never saw that episode. However, “Equilibrium” aired early in season 3 of Deep Space Nine, when I was still watching and waiting for it to get better, and the plot synopsis does ring a vague bell. So maybe I simply forgot about it, like I’ve forgotten about ninety percent of those Deep Space Nine episodes I actually watched.

Anyway, the Trill homeworld looks supiciously like a botanic garden. Michael and Adira are initially greeted by a delegation of very polite Trill dignitaries, who suddenly become a lot less polite, once they realise that Adira is the host of the symbiont Tal, because non-Trills hosting symbionts – now that is utterly unheard of (apparently, the Trill completely forgot about the Next Generation episode “The Host”, where Riker briefly hosted a Trill symbiont. It’s certainly understandable, because “The Host” is not very good). Adira being unable to give the names of Tal’s previous hosts doesn#t help either.

One of the Trill dignitaries thinks that taking Adira to the sacred symbiont caves might help, but the others vehemently disagree, because the caves are sacred and not intended for outsiders. Another Trill dignity thinks Adira is an abomination and wants to forcibly remove the symbiont from them, which would likely kill them. Michael makes it very clear that she will not condone any course of action that endangers Adira’s life. The Trill leader, an elderly black woman, finally declares that no, the Trill will not forcibly separate a symbiont and its host, but neither will they tolerate an outsider in their sacred caves. So the Trill leader orders Michael and Adira to leave the planet.

Some of the Trill escort Michael and Adira back to their shuttle, but Michael quickly figures out that they are being lured into an ambush by the Trill radical who wants to forcibly remove the symbiont from Adira. She takes out a couple of armed guards and the Trill radical. Another Trill dignity shows up and Michael holds him at phaser point, until he confesses that he wants to help and take Michael and Adira to the sacred caves. Because Trill society is on the brink of collapse with more and more symbionts left without suitable hosts. If non-Trill can host symbionts, it might save the Trill.

The Trill saves turn out to be glowy pools of water, where symbionts frollick about, when they’re not bonded to a host. The Trill dignitary tells Adira to go into the water to communicate with their symbiont and hopefully regain their memories as well as the symbiont’s. Meanwhile, Michael and the Trill monitor Adira’s lifesigns. All goes seemingly well, until the rest of the Trill dignitaries show up, very pissed off that one of their number took outsiders to the sacred caves. There is a stand-off and an argument, which is interrupted by Adira suddenly sinking into the pool, while their lifesigns go off the charts.

The Trill finally allow Michael to step into the sacred pool and rescue Adira. Michael finds herself in a glowy CGI wonderland full of tentacly things, which keep trying to connect to a terrified Adira. Michael deduced that these tentacles must be the symbiont and tells Adira to let them connect. And now we finally get Adira’s story in a series of flashbacks.

Adira used to live aboard a generation ship looking for the Federation. Their boyfriend Gray was Trill and hosted the Tal symbiont after the previous host Admiral Sanna Tal died. Adira and Gray were happy and in love, even though Adira was freaked out by Gray suddenly displaying new skills like playing the cello, which he had never been able to do before. Gray reassures Adira that he is still himself in spite of the symbiont. Adira presents Gray with a present, a handmade memory quilt, when tragedy strikes. The ship is struck by a meteorite. Adira and Gray’s quarters are damaged and Gray is mortally wounded. His symbiont is unharmed, but needs to be transferred to a suitable host as soon as possible. Adira volunteers out of love for Gray. So the reason for Adira’s amnesia was not incompatibility with the symbiont, but the trauma of losing Gray.

Adira can now access the memories of the symbiont and see all previous hosts, including Gray and Admiral Tal. Adira and Michael emerge from the pool and Adira can now name all the previous hosts. The Trill apologise for their smallmindedness and offer Adira to remain on Trill. They also express interest in rejoining the Federation, should it ever get back on its feet again. Adira, however, wants to remain aboard Discovery and help them find Starfleet headquarters, the location of which they conveniently remembered. Adira can also see Gray all the time now, not just in the sacred cave, which is not supposed to be possible. The episode ends with Adira and Gray playing the cello together.

There is also a B-plot which involves the psychological impact that travelling 900 years into an unknown future had upon the Discovery crew. Doctor Culber has been tasked with monitoring the health of the crew and reports that while everybody is physically healthy, their stress levels are through the roof because of PTSD. Culber, who should know a thing or two about trauma after getting killed, getting stuck in the spore network and coming back to life, also notices that something is up with Kayla Dettmer and tells her that she can talk to him, if she needs it. She refuses – for now.

Saru is understandably concerned for the mental health of his crew and wants to make them feel better, but he isn’t quite sure how. So he asks the computer for advice – a nice callback to season 1, when Saru briefly found himself in charge of Discovery, when Lorca got captured by the Klingons, and asked the computer what a good captain would do. The computer suggests funny movies, a homecooked dinner and some time off. Oh yes, the the infodump sphere seems to have merged with Discovery‘s computer and the computer is developing a personality as a result. This could be good or bad. On the other hand, it’s Star Trek and artificial intelligences in Star Trek are always evil, unless named Data.

Saru decides to go with the dinner idea and invites Stamets, Culber, Tilly, Nhan, Linus, the bridge crew and even Philippa Georgiou (who would probably prefer to see Saru as the main course) to a feast in the style of his homeworld. At first, everything goes well. Saru holds a speech, Georgiou is not too insolent and everybody is making up haikus on the spot, to the confusion of Nhan, whose homeworld apparently doesn’t do haiku or poetry. There are some tensions between Stamets and Tilly, because Saru had ordered Stamets to find an alternative system to allow Discovery to control the spore drive, should Stamets be incapacitated again, and Stamets blew off Tilly’s suggestion to look into dark matter.

The tensions quickly come to a head, not between Stamets and Tilly, but between Stamets and Dettmer. Cause it turns out that Dettmer is really pissed off that everybody pays so much attention to Stamets and takes her for granted, even though Dettmer is the one who actually flies the ship. There is shouting and then Dettmer storms out. Owosegun goes after her as does the rest of the bridge crew. Culber goes after Stamets and everybody else leaves as well, while Saru sits dejected among the remnants of his feel-good dinner. To be fair, Saru’s awkward dinner has nothing against the dinner party in Lois McMaster Bujold’s A Civil Campaign, which is still the gold standard for awkward dinner parties in science fiction.

Tilly eventually comes back tells Saru that shouting matches at the dinner table were just another Tuesday in her family. Stamets apologises to Tilly, Dettmer finally talks to Culber, Linus brings Georgiou popcorn and in the end, everybody watches an Buster Keaton silent comedy in the shuttle bay and sings kumbaya.

“Forget Me Not” is a perfectly fine Star Trek Discovery episode full of nice character moments, but it also feels very much like filler. And so I was quite surprised that a lot of reviewers such as James Whitbrook at io9 or Keith R.A. DeCandido at Tor.com seem to rank it quite highly. Though Camestros Felapton is also rather meh on the episode.

Maybe the problem is with me. I simply wasn’t in the mood for Star Trek yesterday. Right now, there are things I want to write a lot more than a review of an okay Star Trek Discovery episode. There is a three quarters finished blogpost that I didn’t get finished in time and I really want to get back to that. Another problem might be that I simply don’t find the Trill very interesting. Most of what we know about them we learned in Deep Space Nine and that will always be my least favourite Star Trek show. Never mind that the Trill plot boiled down to a repeat of last week’s “Insularity is bad, cooperation is good” message. Which I actually agree with, but do we really need to repeat that every single episode?

That said, I do like Adira and Gray. They make for a sweet young couple, though I’m not sure whether the advance hype surrounding Star Trek‘s first non-binary character (Adira as played by Blu del Barrio) and fist trans character (Gray as played by Ian Alexander) did this plotline any favours, because a lot of viewers were probably expecting the gender identity of the characters and actors to matter more than it ultimately does, especially since everybody uses “she” pronouns for Adira (Blu del Barrio explains the reason for this in this interview), though I’ll continue to use “they” for now. Adira and Gray are simply a young couple in love, who happen to be played by a non-binary and a trans actor and that’s perfectly fine. Because non-binary and trans people exist and not every story needs to be about their identity. Gavia Baker-Whitelaw points out that the fact that Gray basically gets ten minutes of screentime, before he gets killed, doesn’t help either, especially not after Doctor Culber was unceremoniously killed off after only a few episodes and only a handful of scenes with Stamets. And yes, I know Doctor Culber got better and yes, I know that Gray came back as a ghost or whatever he is, but honestly, Discovery, maybe you could just let LGBTQ characters live for once?

What is more, I’m not sure if Discovery really needs any more characters, especially since we know almost nothing about many of the regulars. This episode does a good job in giving underserved characters like Doctor Culber or Kayla Dettmer some screentime, but there are still so many characters we know next to nothing about. What do we know about Bryce, Rhys and Nielsen except for their names? For that matter, what do we know about Nhan? Doctor Pollard? Linus?

Furthermore, of the new Discovery characters, I actually find Book a lot more interesting than Adira and Gray. Because precocious teens are not exactly a rarity in Star Trek and often not handled well, even though this particular precocious teen happens to share their body and mind with a hundreds of years old symbiont. Meanwhile, Book is an example of an old science fiction stock character, the space rogue, but one we haven’t seen a lot of in Star Trek so far.

Next episode, it seems that Discovery finally finds Starfleet headquarters (hurray!), but again is given a rather cold welcome (boo!) and will probably deliver another round of “Insularity is bad, cooperation is good”, just in case we haven’t gotten the message yet.

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Retro Review: “Garden of Evil” by Margaret St. Clair

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Not an illustration of “Garden of Evil”, but a white-washed Eric John Stark in “Queen of the Martian Catacombs”.

“Garden of Evil” by Margaret St. Clair is a planetary romance short story, which appeared in the summer 1949 issue of Planet Stories and is therefore eligible for the 1950 Retro Hugos, should they ever be held. The story may be found online here. This review will also be crossposted to Retro Science Fiction Reviews.

I came across this story when SFFAudio pointed out on Twitter that the entire summer 1949 issue of Planet Stories, including “Garden of Evil” was now public domain. And since I’ve enjoyed everything I’ve read by Margaret St. Clair so far, I decided to make it the subject of my next Retro Review.

Warning: There will be spoilers in the following!

The story begins with a man called Ericson – we never learn his first name – waking  up after spending what appears to be several months in a haze. Ericson is not alone. There is a green-skinned woman named Mnathl with him, who gives him something to eat.

We gradually learn that Ericson is on a planet named Fyhon that is not unlike the Venus of the shared pulp science fiction solar system – a place of jungles and seas – except that it has sunshine on occasion. And in fact I suspect that the reason that Margaret St. Clair did not set her story on Venus is because her alien planet needed to have direct sunlight.

Ericson is an ethnographer supposed to study Fyhon and its people. He fell in love with the lush planet and decided to stay. All would have been well, if Ericson hadn’t managed to get himself addicted to a drug called byhror, when he got lost in the jungles of Fyhon during a one-man expedition without supplies or food and had to resort to taking the drug to survive.

When we meet Ericson, he has just been through a lengthy and painful withdrawal and is clean for the first time in three years. Mnathl helped him to get clean by taking him to an otherwise deserted island, strapping him down and subjecting him to a combination of injections of human drugs and the healing properties of some local herbs. The treatment is extremely painful and makes Ericson intermittently violent.

The story made me curious whether medical addiction therapy was already a thing in the 1940s, so I did some research. The results, however, were inconclusive. Methadone, the most commonly used substitution drug, had been developed by German chemists in the late 1930s and was introduced to the US market in 1947, after the US had stolen (and yes, that’s what it was) German patents and brand names post WWII, so it was already available by 1949. However, methadone was originally marketed as a painkiller and only was used for drug substitution therapy from the 1960s onwards. However, there had been other attempts at medical addiction therapy before, going back to the late 19th century. To help them get clean, addicts were injected with all sorts of substances such as cocaine, a solution of gold and strychnine in alcohol, bromide, insulin and even heroin with predictably horrible results. Was Margaret St. Clair familiar with such treatments? It’s certainly possible.

Once Ericson is clean again, he is eager to get back to the human settlement of Penhairn and find a job. However, Mnathl insists that they instead go to a place called Dridihad in the unknown heart of the south polar continent of Fyhon. Ericson doesn’t want to go to Dridihad, but he doesn’t have any choice in the matter, for Mnathl injects him with a drug that saps his will. “Mnathl had made other things in her cooking pots besides soup”, a resigned Ericson notes.

Mnathl’s drug eventually wears off, but by now Ericson is no longer unwilling to go to Dridihad. After all, the ethnographic paper he plans to publish about this adventure will hopefully help to get him his old job back. Mnathl teaches Ericson how to kindle a fire and hunt, but she refuses to answer any questions about why they are going to Dridihad and what they will find there.

After a few days, Ericson and Mnathl come across a giant pyramid in the jungle. Ericson is fascinated, Mnathl less so. When he asks her who built the pyramid, Mnathl replies that her people built it.

More days pass and Ericson is bitten by a venomous snake. Once again, Mnathl saves him by sucking the poison from the wound, risking her own life in the process. If you’re thinking by now that Mnathl is a little too good and too self-sacrificing to be true, you’re not alone.

After sixty-six days, Ericson and Mnathl finally reach the foot of the plateau upon which the city of Dridihad lies. After a laborious climb up the plateau, the gates of Dridihad finally open for Mnathl and Ericson.

The people of Dridihad treat Ericson like a prince, while Ericson dreams of the fame and fortune his paper will bring him. After all, none of the human scientists on Fyhon even knew that there was such an ancient and populous city in the heart of the supposedly deserted south polar continent. Too bad that no one in Dridihad will give Ericson any writing materials.

When Mnathl reappears, she is dressed in splendid robes like a queen or a priestess. She takes Ericson hunting on the plateau, shows him around the city and takes him to a ritual in the main temple of Dridihad, which involves sacrificing an animal and eating it. Mnathl officiates at the ritual, which confirms Ericson’s suspicions that she is a priestess.

Ericson also wonders why such an important personage even bothered to help an alien drug addict like him and comes to the conclusion that Mnathl is in love with him. This is a problem, because Ericson is not remotely attracted to her.

After several more days and more rituals, rituals which seem to be leading up to some kind of climax, Mnathl takes Ericson to the top of the pyramid-shaped temple. Ericson tries to have an awkward, “It’s not you, it’s me” conversation with her, but Mnathl blows him off and starts to laugh. She definitely does not love him, but instead wants Ericson to be the messenger of her people to the gods. “And then”, Mnathl says, “we eat.”

Mnathl’s people, she tells him, became interested in Ericson when they heard of his ill-fated solo expedition into the interior of the continent. They were particularly fascinated by Ericson’s unusual colouring, a combination of near golden tanned skin and blonde hair. And so they decided that he would be an excellent messenger to their gods and sent Mnathl to find him, nurse him back to health and bring him back to Dridihad.

Ericson now knows what his fate will be. Not only has he witnessed several religious rites by now, he also recalls a remark in another ethnographer’s paper that the people of Fyhon are definitely not engaging in ritual cannibalism, which strikes him as very ironic.

However, Ericson is also remarkably resigned to his fate. After all, he is free of his drug addiction now and besides, he got the ethnographic experience of a lifetime, even if he never got to write that paper and never got tenure either. And so Ericson smiles, as the temple guards chop off his head. Mercifully, Margaret St. Clair spares us what comes after.

[image error]This is a fascinating story, in spite of the downer ending. On the one hand, it’s pure pulp science fiction with a human explorer on an alien planet who falls in with an indigenous beauty and comes to a sticky end. And indeed, if you’re the protagonist of a pulp science fiction story, it’s never a good idea to hang out with alien women, no matter how beautiful, seductive and helpful they seem to be, because they will inevitably want to enslave you, steal your body, kill you or eat you. Just ask Northwest Smith and Eric John Stark, who narrowly escaped such a fate more than once. In fact, Eric John Stark escapes a similar fate in “Queen of the Martian Catacombs”, the lead novella of that very same issue of Planet Stories.

However, Ericson is no Eric John Stark or Northwest Smith. He’s a nerdy academic and a recovering drug addict besides. And indeed, the fact that the protagonist is a junkie makes “Garden of Evil” feel almost like a New Wave story from the 1960s at times. Not that the drugs never appeared in the science fiction and fantasy of the pulp era – indeed, a lot of SFF of the 1930s and 1940s is absolutely drug-soaked to the point that I’m glad all that stuff went over my head as a teenager. But while descriptions of alien landscapes may be nigh hallucinogenic and alien opium dens abound in golden age science fiction, the protagonists usually do not dabble in mind-altering substances.

In fact, the only other golden age science fiction story with a drug-addicted protagonist I can think of is Leigh Brackett’s “The Moon That Vanished” from 1948 (the protagonist of Brackett’s 1944 novelette “Terror Out Of Space” is also high as a kite on amphetamines for most of the story, but he’s not an addict). Interestingly, “The Moon That Vanished” bears striking similarities to Margaret St. Clair’s 1952 story “Island of the Hands”, which I reviewed for Galactic Journey last year. In fact, I wonder whether Brackett and St. Clair knew each other, especially since they both lived in California at the same time, published in the same magazines and tackled similar themes.

Both Brackett and St. Clair deal with colonialism in many of their stories from the 1940s. “Garden of Evil” is no exception, because it’s a story about indigenous people turning the tables on a western explorer. Even though he’s an ethnographer, Ericson assumes a lot about the indigenous people of Fyhon, that they’re primitive, but harmless, that they’re stoic and unemotional, that Mnathl is in love with him, that her people definitely do not practice ritual cannibalism. Every single one of those assumptions is wrong. And what makes Ericson a target is his blonde hair and golden tanned skin.

Aliens in pulp science fiction are often stand-ins for indigenous people, usually the indigenous people of North America. “Garden of Evil” is an exception here, because the names, the religious practices and the pyramid-like temples are reminiscent of Central America. Furthermore, the drug that Ericson gets himself addicted to is a powerful natural stimulant found in a type of leaves native to Fyhon, which brings to mind cocaine.

Planet Stories is often dismissed as a purveyor of cliched space opera adventures and indeed, there are many of those to be found in its pages. However, even at its most cliched, the fiction in Planet Stories is always entertaining. Furthermore, the magazine also offered a home to stories, which did not fit the rather narrow editorial standards of the more upscale science fiction mags like Astounding or The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, which had only just started in 1949, or Galaxy, which would start up the following year and would never publish “that pulp stuff”. Or can you imagine John W. Campbell publishing a story like “Garden of Evil”, where the protagonist is a down and out drug addict (even if he also is a scientist), who does not triumph due to his human ingenuity, but instead loses his head at the end?

Margaret St. Clair is one of the neglected woman authors of the golden age (though her careers spans both the silver age and the New Wave as well and she kept writing into the early 1980s). I have no idea why she isn’t better known, since Margaret St. Clair can easily stand alongside Leigh Brackett, C.L. Moore and Andre Norton with regard to quality of her fiction. She was also very versatile – more versatile than any of the others except maybe C.L. Moore with her work spanning science fiction, fantasy and horror and ranging from screwballs comedies like “The Sacred Martian Pig” (which I should really review for Retro Reviews sometime, since it’s such a delightful story) to downers like “Garden of Evil”.

Yet when her name comes up at all these days, it’s usually in connection with Appendix N, the one page list of inspirational science fiction and fantasy authors and novels for further reading to be found in the back of the first Dungeon & Dragons Dungeon Masters Guide. Even though the Dungeon Masters Guide was published more than forty years ago, there has been a renewed interested in works listed in Appendix N in the past few years. And whenever Appendix N is discussed, Margaret St. Clair is often mentioned as the most obscure author on the list (here is a recent example), though personally I find several others (John Bellairs, Sterling Lanier, Andrew J. Offutt) more obscure.

Like many of Margaret St. Clair’s stories, “Garden of Evil” has never been reprinted, which is a pity because it’s a fascinating story which combines the adventure of pulp science fiction with the sensibilities of the New Wave. Highly recommended.

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“The Mandalorian” and Baby Yoda are back and meet “The Marshal”

Yes, everybody’s favourite space gunslinger and his adopted kid, the cutest little green alien toddler in the universe, are back. It’s time again for The Mandalorian or – as my Mom calls it – “Baby Yoda and His Dad”.

I only did an aggregate review of season 1 of The Mandalorian, largely because I initially wasn’t intending to watch the show, until the cuteness that is Baby Yoda won me over. But for season 2 I will do episode by episode reviews like I do for Star Trek.

ETA: Camestros Felapton also has a review of “The Marshal” here.

Warning: Spoilers behind the cut!

Season 2 opens with Mando and Baby Yoda walking/floating into an unnamed town. The town is full of graffiti of Stormtroopers and what looks like C-3PO. The artist who did the graffiti was listed in the credits BTW. There are also red-eyed things lurking in the dark. And yes, I know their names are not officially Mando and Baby Yoda, but they’re called Din Djarin and the Child.

Mando has come to see a one-eyed alien called Gor Koresh (played by John Leguizamo who is completely unrecognisable under kilos of make-up). There’s no way that name is a coincidence, considering it references both the infamous Gor novels by John Norman as well as David Koresh, the cult leader who was killed along with many of his followers in Waco, Texas, in 1993.

Gor Koresh is just as charming as his two namesakes. He runs an underground fight club where two Gamoreans are bashing in each other’s heads for the amusement of a bloodthirsty crowd. Baby Yoda clearly is no fan of blood sports and Gor Koresh tells Mando that his fight club is no place for a child. Mando replies, “Where I go, he goes,” and thus states what appears to be his parenting philosophy. For Mando indeed seems to have decided that taking Baby Yoda everywhere is the best way to keep the little one safe. I’m not so convinced about that, but as long as it gives us plenty of cute Baby Yoda moments, I’m happy.

Mando has come to see Gor Koresh, because Koresh is rumoured to know where to find other Mandalorians who might help him with his quest to reunite Baby Yoda with his own people. Because after his own underground clan of Mandalorians have been all but wiped out by Werner Herzog and Moff Gideon, Mando is cut off from his people.

Koresh, on the other hand, turns out to mainly want Mandalorians for their beskar armour. He tries to double-cross Mando, which is never a good idea. And so Mando takes out Koresh’s henchcritters, while Baby Yoda – who knows trouble when he sees it – quickly closes his armoured float cradle and lets Dad do his thing.

Koresh escapes, but Mando quickly recaptures him and hangs him upside down from a street lantern. He also promises Koresh that he will not die by Mando’s hand, if he tells him the truth. Now Koresh finally does spill that there is a Mandalorian living on Tatooine. Mando, in turn, leaves Koresh behind for the red-eyed critters that lurk in the dark to enjoy – after all, he only promised that Koresh wouldn’t die by his hand. It’s hard to feel sorry for him.

And so we’re back on Tatooine, secret navel of the Star Wars universe. Mando takes the Razorcrest to the docking bay of Peli Motto (Amy Sedaris cosplaying Ellen Ripley from Alien) in Mos Eisley. This time, he even lets her repair droids touch his precious ship – apparently Mando’s experience with the heroic droid IG-11 last season has caused him to mellow towards droids. Peli is happy to see Mando and cuddle Baby Yoda again (well, he is very cuddly). Mando has heard that his fellow Mandalorian is in a town called Mos Pelgo (we suspect “Mos” means “settlement” in the language of Tatooine) and asks Peli where to find it. Peli replies that the town has been wiped out by bandits shortly after the fall of the Empire, as far as she knows, but she nonetheless shows Mando its location of a map projected by another familiar face, a R5-D4 droid. And it’s not just any old R5-D4 droid, but as iO9 reviewer Germain Lussier points out, it’s the very same R5-D4 droid that Owen Lars was going to buy from the Jawas until it malfunctioned and he decided to purchase R2-D2 instead and thus altered the course of the entire Star Wars universe (and signed his own death warrant) with a single purchase decision. It’s a nice callback – one of many in this episode. I’m also glad that R5-D4, a character whose timely malfunction changed the course of history, found a good home after all.

So Mando borrows Peli’s speeder bike and takes off for Mos Pelgo, Baby Yoda in the saddle bag. Once again, it’s absolutely not an appropriate vehicle for transporting a young child, though Baby Yoda clearly loves it, judging by the look of pure joy on his face.

On the way to Mos Pelgo, Mando stops by at a camp of Sandpeople/Tusken raiders to ask them for directions. We learn that Mando is not just friendly enough with the Sandpeople not to be attacked, he can also communicate with them via sign language. This will be important later.

One Mando and Baby Yoda make it to Mos Pelgo, The Mandalorian goes into full western mode again. Mos Pelgo is your typical frontier town, updated for Tatooine. There are windmills, raised walkways beside a central dirt road and there’s also a saloon. And the locals are wary when Mando rides into town.

I don’t know if they have westerns in the Star Wars universe, but Mando certainly knows that the saloon is the place to go for information, so he heads there to quiz the Weequay barkeeper, who is played by W. Earl Brown, a fairly well known actor (and huge Star Wars fan, it seems) best known for the western series Deadwood. When Mando asks if the Weequay has seen someone who wears armour like his, the Weequay replies, “That would be the marshal then. And here he is.”

Now all Star Wars fans know which Mandalorian not named Din Djarin was last seen on Tatooine, though he should be a tad busy getting digested by sarlacc for a thousand years at this point in time. So of course, we all expect who will come walking through that door. But there is a nice bit of misdirection going on here, for while Boba Fett’s old armour does walk into the saloon, the person wearing it very definitely is not Boba Fett. This person is a lot lankier than Boba Fett and the armour doesn’t fit him properly, whereas Mandalorian armour – as we’ve seen last season – is custom-made.

The person wearing Boba Fett’s armour is not overly surprised to see Mando; he expected a Mandalorian to show up eventually. And just in case we hadn’t noticed that something is very off about this Mandalorian, he also orders some drinks and then proceeds to take off his helmet, something we know Mandalorians never do in public.

When we finally see the face underneath Boba Fett’s old helmet, I initially thought it was Pierce Brosnan and went, “Wait a minute, I had no idea he even was in The Mandalorian.”  However, it turns out the actor is not Pierce Brosnan after all, but Timothy Olyphant who’s best known for neo-westerns like Justified and Deadwood, neither of which I could ever get into. Coincidentally, I’m not the only one who noticed the resemblance to Pierce Brosnan. AV Club reviewer Katie Rife notes it, too.

In the Star Wars universe, the man wearing Boba Fett’s old armour is called Cobb Vanth and we get his story in a flashback. Vanth was just another inhabitant of Mos Pelgo, celebrating the destruction of the second Death Star and the fall of the Empire in the saloon, when some armed goons of a group called the Mining Collective show up, take over the town and enslave the populace, since there’s now no one left to stop them, not even the Empire, which was always more concerned with chasing rebels than actually doing something about the rampant crime and slavery issues on backwater worlds like Tatooine anyway.

I’ve said before that with the sequel trilogy the Star Wars universe has turned from a place that is bad now, but was better once and will be better once again in the future, to a place that has always been bad and will always be bad. The Mandalorian had repeatedly reinforced this impression in season 1, where we see all sorts of ordinary people struggling to make ends meet now the Empire is gone, while the New Republic does literally fuck all. “The Marshal” reinforces this impression even more, because with the Empire gone, other actors (crime lords, bandits, the Mining Collective) step into the power vacuum. And bad as the Empire was, many of those groups tend to be even worse. It’s a realistic look at what all too often happens after revolutions in the real world, where the chaos that follows is often worse for regular people than the semi-orderly authoritarian regime that preceded it. Nonetheless, it’s still depressing.

The armed goons of the Mining Collective shoot up the saloon, but Cobb Vanth is able to escape. He steals one of those ice cream makers that are used to transport valuable goods in Star Wars universe from the Mining Collective goons and runs out into the desert. When he’s about to die of thirst, he gets lucky and comes across a Jawa sandcrawler. The Jawas take him aboard and offer Vanth his choice of their wares in exchange for the crystals he accidentally stole. Vanth chooses a battered set of Mandalorian armour the Jawas picked up we can all guess where. I guess beskar armour is too difficult to digest even for sarlaccs.

With his battered armour and jetpack, Vanth returns to Mos Pelgo, takes out the various Mining Collective goons and makes himself marshal. Considering he just took out an entire squad of armed bad guys, no one is arguing with him. Besides, Vanth is essentially a decent guy who just wants to protect his town. In fact, he put Boba Fett’s old armour to a better use than Fett ever did. Cobb Vanth is a character who first appeared in Chuck Wendig’s Star Wars tie-in novel Aftermath BTW, which I’m sure will thrill certain quarters of fandom.

Din Djarin is also essentially a decent guy, but he also takes the Mandalorian way very seriously and so he demands the armour back, presumably to be melted down for the benefit of other Mandalorians. Vanth, however, isn’t going to just give up the one thing that allows him to keep his town safe. Neither of them really wants to hurt the other, but nonetheless Mando and Vanth seem to be heading for a high noon type shoot-out, much to Baby Yoda’s chagrin, when they are interrupted by a rumble which shakes the entire town.

The rumble turns out to be a krayt dragon, the other huge worm-like subterranean species native to Tatooine. So far, we’ve never seen an actual krayt dragon in Star Wars, though we have seen the skeleton of one, when C-3PO stumbles upon it, and we have heard Obi Wan imitate the mating call of a krayt dragon.

Both krayt dragons and sarlaccs by the sandworms from Frank Herbert’s Dune, just as Tatooine itself is very obviously inspired by Dune. And Dune in turn was inspired by the Mars of the pulp science fiction shared solar system. Indeed, Leigh Brackett mentions sandworm like creatures in her 1945 Retro Hugo winning novel Shadow Over Mars a.k.a. The Nemesis from Terra. Coincidentally, Shadow Over Mars also has villainous mining company, the very aptly named Terran Exploitation Company, enslave random townspeople to toil in their mines.

The influences on Star Wars have been scrutinised to death by now, but while Flash Gordon is almost always mentioned as an influence, but the influence of the written science fiction of the 1930s to 1960s is still often underestimated, even though Star Wars is absolutely brimming with ideas borrowed from vintage SF.  The Dune – Tatooine connection is probably the most obvious, but the Ewoks are also very obviously H. Beam Piper’s Little Fuzzies by another name, while Endor has alwas reminded me of Athshe from Ursula K. Le Guin’s The Word for World is Forest. Dagobah is clearly Venus before Mariner 2 ruined everything and the Mos Eisley cantina has its forebearers in dozens of seedy spaceport bars. The Force is a New Age gussied up version of the psi powers that were so popular in SFF (largely because John W. Campbell really liked them) from the golden age all the way into the 1960s. The droids are very much Asimovian robots, even if the Three Laws are never uttered. Han Solo is a classic space rogue in the Eric John Stark and Northwest Smith mold (and Chewie is comparable to Northwest’s best friend and partner Yarol). And indeed, when I reread a lot of Leigh Brackett planetary romances from the golden age some time ago, I came across a lot of scenes and ideas which would show up in Star Wars thirty plus year later. Even more interestingly, I also came across a lot of Indiana Jones prototypes – two-fisted archaeologists with somewhat shady morals and a tendency to get in supernaturally tinged trouble – in Leigh Brackett’s old stories from the 1940s. It clearly was no accident that George Lucas hired Leigh Brackett to write the screenplay for The Empire Strikes Back – he obviously was a fan. Just as he obviously read a lot of 1930s to 1960s science fiction.

The krayt dragon passes underneath the town and gobbles up a bantha. And indeed, the poor wooly banthas do suffer a lot in this episode. Vanth tells Mando that the krayt dragon has been terrorising the town for a long time now, gobbling up banthas and the occasional villager. Vanth also offers Mando a deal: If Mando helps Vanth kill the krayt dragon, Vanth will hand over the armour. Meanwhile, Baby Yoda has decided the discretion is the better part of valour and hidden in a spittoon. I do hope Mando gives him a bath later, because spittoons are not sanitary environments for small children.

So Mando and Vanth set off on their speeder bikes to kill the dragon, Baby Yoda once again riding along in the saddle bag. Vanth’s speeder bike is made from a pod-racer engine and not just any old pod-racer engine either, but the one young Anakin built way back in The Phantom Menace. It’s a neat callback, though I do find it striking that almost everybody in the Star Wars universe who is not the Empire or the First Order is using ancient technology that has been repaired and repurposed dozens of times. Anakin’s pod-racer engine should be around forty years old at this point and Anakin already built it from scrap. Peli Motto’s pit droids and her R5-D4 unit are almost as old. The Millennium Falcon is already ancient when Han wins it from Lando. Mando’s Razorcrest is just as ancient. Recycling is all good and well, but why is everybody reusing ancient stuff in a universe with as high a technological level as the Star Wars universe? Do they have no manufacturing at all (Come to think of it, the only factory we ever see in the Star Wars universe is the battle droid factory from Attack of the Clones) and what happened to it? Cause those spaceships, droids and speeder bikes were not all built by scavengers. They all came out of a factory at some point, but for some reason those factories all seem to have collapsed.

Before they take on the krayt dragon, Mando takes Vanth to see a group of Sandpeople, cause the Sandpeople not only know where the krayt dragon has its lair (in an abandoned sarlacc, since it apparently ate the sarlacc), but they have also been studying its sleeping and eating patterns for centuries. The Sandpeople are as eager to see the dragon dead as Vanth and his people, so Mando suggests working together to take it out, using the Sandpeople’s knowledge. However, Vanth doesn’t want to work with the Sandpeople and neither do the people of Mos Pelgo, since the Sandpeople and the human inhabitants of Tatooine are sworn enemies.

The portrayal of the Sandpeople in this episode is something I really liked. Because in forty-three years of Star Wars, the Sandpeople have always been one-dimensional antagonists, minor obstacles for our heroes to overcome. We first see them, when they attack Luke, then we see them again firing at random pod-racers and then again, when Anakin slaughters a bunch of them, after they kidnap and kill his mother. But in all those forty-three years no one ever thought to talk to the Sandpeople. Everybody – even Jedi like Obi Wan or Anakin – only ever treated them like something to kill.

“The Marshal” gives us the Sandpeople’s POV for the first time in forty-three years, translated via Mando who speaks their language (and where precisely did he learn that anyway?). The story of the Sandpeople is not exactly new, it’s a typical coloniser versus colonised people conflict, since the Sandpeople are native to Tatooine (as are the sarlaccs, krayt dragons, woomp rats and very likely the Hutt, since we never see them anywhere else and they’re not exactly mobile). The humans, Weequay and other species, on the other hand, are colonists who showed up at a later point and took over the planet, though considering Tatooine has slavery, we don’t know how voluntarily these people came there. And indeed, Tor.com reviewer Emmet Asher-Perrin notes that the Sandpeople very much serve as stand-ins for Indigenous Americans in this episode. Guardian reviewer Paul MacInnes also notes a parallel to the 1950 western Broken Arrow in having indigenous people and settlers working together to defeat a larger problem.

This is again a very old idea – Leigh Brackett used various Martian and Venusian natives as stand-ins for Indigenous Americans in her planetary romances of the 1940s. And while the human villains were often capitalists intent on displacing and exploiting those indigenous populations, her outlaw protagonists inevitably sided with them, so Mando is standing in the tradition of Eric John Stark and Roy Campbell here. Star Wars has portrayed conflicts between colonisers and indigenous people before, most notably with the Ewoks on Endor (and also the Wookies on Kashykk), whereby the Battle of Endor is widely considered to be a stand-in for the Vietcong prevailing against the technologically superior US Army. And yes, I’m still amazed that George Lucas was able to get away with this a mere ten years after the end of the Vietnam War.

After a lot of reluctance and hostility on both sides, Mando is finally able to persuade the townspeople and Sandpeople to work together to defeat the krayt dragon that is terrorising them both. It’s a nice solution, if maybe a little simple, but it’s also very much not a Star Wars solution, because “Let’s talk to each other, find out what the other side wants and find a way to work together” is not how things normally work in the Star Wars universe. In my reviews of season 3 of Star Trek Discovery, I noted that the first two episodes of the season felt more like Star Wars than Star Trek. And now in turn we get an episode of The Mandalorian, which goes for a very Star Trek-like “Let’s talk things over” solution. And indeed, the main conflict in the most recent episode of Discovery was resolved in exactly this way.

However, this show is still The Mandalorian and besides, a krayt dragon cannot be reasoned with (but then we once thought the same about the Sandpeople, if we thought about them at all) and so the episode culminates in a huge fight, as Mando, Vanth, the Sandpeople and the people of Mos Pelgo work together to take out the krayt dragon. The initial plan – lure the dragon out of its cave and blow it up – fails and only causes the dragon to vomit acid (okay, that one is clearly borrowed from Alien) over Sandpeople and humans alike. Mando tells Vanth to distract the dragon, which Vanth does by firing a rocket into its eye. Then Mando tells Vanth to take care of Baby Yoda, if things go wrong, and tricks the krayt dragon into swallowing a pack bantha that’s loaded down with explosives (banthas really don’t fare well in this episode) as well as Mando himself. There is a tense moment, as evidenced by Baby Yoda looking very worried, for where is Daddy? Then Mando electrocutes the dragon, bursts out of its mouth on his jetpack and detonates the explosives (and the poor bantha). The Sandpeople get the carcass of the krayt dragon (and a huge pearl – or is that an egg?), Vanth gets a chunk of dragon meat and Mando gets Boba Fett’s old armour. He is also covered in acid vomit, but beskar is tough stuff.

And so everything ends happily, except that as Mando takes off again, we see a bald and cloaked figure standing in the desert watching him. The figure turns around and holy crap, it’s Temuera Morrison with a scar across his face.

Now the last time we saw Temuera Morrison in Star Wars, it was as the Mandalorian bounty hunter Jango Fett (who apparently belongs to a clan which do take off their helmets on occasion) in Attack of the Clones. Jango dies at the end of that movie, cut down by Samuel L. Jackson as Mace Windu. However, Jango’s DNA was used to create the clone troopers and also his “son” Boba Fett. So is the scarred man in the desert Boba Fett who somehow got out of the sarlacc’s digestive tract, though sans his armour? Or is he just a random unemployed Stormtrooper?  And for the record, I don’t even want to think about the implications of having likely millions of people with the exact same genetic profile running around the Star Wars galaxy. I guess birth defects will take a sharp tick up approx. twenty to thirty years after the fall of the Empire, as the children fathered by the surviving clone troopers grow up and some of them commit accidental incest. And yes, I know I’m overthinking this, but the implications are there.

Star Wars has always been very much a pop culture and genre mash-up – Emmet Asher-Perrin calls it the rainbow bagel of pop culture. The Mandalorian plays up the western elements of the Star Wars universe big time and this episode is very much a western that just happens to be set on an alien planet. However, it’s also the story of two armoured knights who go off to slay a dragon and succeed after several hardships, playing up the fantasy elements of the Star Wars universe. One reviewer – I forgot which one – also notes the biblical parallels, since Mando literally ends up in the belly of the whale krayt dragon.

At least based on this episode, season 2 of The Mandalorian seems to be doing more of what made season 1 such a huge success: Neat genre mash-ups leaning heavily into science fiction on the one hand and western on the other. Baby Yoda being incredibly cute and his Dad being monosyllabic and morally grey, but ultimately a good guy. The episodes are largely self-contained adventures with an overarching plot (Keep Baby Yoda safe in season 1, keep him safe and return him to his people in season 2).

The Mandalorian is very much a variation of the old “A stranger comes to town…” story. We find this pattern in a lot of westerns. A stranger rides into town, gets involved in whatever conflict is brewing locally and solves it, then he rides on. However, it’s not just a western plot. The Jack Reacher novels function very much like this, as did the old TV series The Fugitive and Route 66 or the Incredible Hulk TV series of the 1970s or The A-Team in the 1980s. In science fiction, the adventures of the above mentioned Eric John Stark and Northwest Smith are very much variations on the stranger who comes to town a new planet, as is Doctor Who. So is my own In Love and War series. Over in fantasy, Conan, Solomon Kane and many other sword and sorcery characters (including my own Thurvok) are also variations on this theme.

But this story pattern is much older and goes back to the questing knights errant of medieval legend.  And the reasons it continues to be popular is because it works and allows to tell a nigh endless variety of stories, as the protagonist solves someone else’s problem and moves on to the next adventure and the next. It doesn’t matter whether there is a fixed goal to the protagonist’s quest as with Dr. Richard Kimble from The Fugitive or The A-Team or whether there isn’t, as with Jack Reacher. The protagonist will always move on to new adventures or new stories. And the Star Wars universe offers endless possibilities for new adventures for Baby Yoda and his Mandalorian Dad.

 

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Star Trek Discovery pays a visit to the “People of the Earth”

Welcome back to my episode by episode review of Star Trek Discovery. My takes on previous episodes may be found here.

Warning: Spoilers behind the cut!

“People of the Earth” opens with a brief flashback of what happened to Michael during the year she waited for Discovery to arrive. In order to learn more about whatever happened to the Federation and Starfleet and what exactly caused “the burn”, Michael became a courier, working both alone as well as with Book. We learn all this from a log recording that Michael makes for Discovery, whenever she will arrive, wherein she also confesses that she fears she will never see the Discovery and her crew again. We also nicely see Michael’s hair grow steadily longer as time passes until she has the awesome cornrows she wears now. The brief flashback ends with Michael and Book (and Grudge) together, laughing and clearly comfortable with each other, when Michael’s ancient Starfleet communicator begins to beep.

Now this episode continues exactly where last week’s episode left off, with Michael and the Discovery finally reunited. As Michael beams aboard, she is met by Tilly, Saru, Stamets and the bridge crew, which leads to a massive group hug. Indeed, there is a lot of hugging in this episode, which I quite liked, though AV Club reviewer Zack Handlen didn’t.

Empress Philippa the Merciless isn’t one for hugging – too undignified. Nonetheless, she skulks around in the background, as relieved as anybody else to have Michael back. And unlike everybody else, Philippa is actually pleased that Michael has changed, has become tougher and more independent in her year away. Oh yes, and Georgiou has promoted herself to admiral, too. Michelle Yeoh is always a delight and Philippa Georgiou, Empress of the Universe, in Mama Bear mode is brilliant. iO9 reviewer James Whitbrook clearly agrees with me.

Book gets a taste of Georgiou’s protectiveness, when he beams aboard Discovery and promptly finds himself faced with Georgiou (rather than Tilly or Dettmer, as Michael promised) who proceeds to interogate him with regard to his intentions towards Michael. Book remains charming but evasive, though he does assure Georgiou that he and Michael are not a couple, at least not yet. Cause considering the sparks flying between Michael and Book, they will get there eventually.

The reactions of the rest of the Discovery crew to Book are very telling as well. Saru is grateful for Book’s help, but wary of his intentions, not to mention jealous at the new man in Michael’s life. Meanwhile, Dettmer and Owosegun quickly decide that Michael definitely made the right choice, because Book is very handsome indeed. Book, meanwhile, is bemused at the antique vessel aboard which he finds himself, which turns to amazement, once he sees the ship’s dilithium store (Michael had promised Book some dilithium in exchange for his help). Plus, to Book’s infinite disappointment, the replicator only produces synthehol, which will give you the taste, but not the buzz. Finally, Book is also still reluctant at letting himself get drawn into Starfleet and their issues, as is evidenced by a scene where he is forced to wear a Starfleet uniform and pose as an officer. He’s clearly uncomfortable and not just because he has no idea how zippers work. David Ajala continues to be a great addition to the cast and I hope we’ll see more of him, even if he takes off alone at the end of the episode.

As soon as Michael is safely back, Saru also wants to have the captain conversation with her, but Michael tells him that of course Saru will remain captain of the Discovery. It’s absolutely the right decision and one I’m very happy with, because as I said last week, Saru makes a great captain (and Tor.com reviewer Keith R.A. DeCandido agrees with me). Whereas Michael is probably a bit too much of a Maverick to make a good captain, but more about that later.

Saru also wants Michael to be his Number One (Is this now the standard address for first officers in Starfleet? Cause so far, we have only heard Riker [who directs this episode] and Captain Pike’s still nameless first officer called that). However, Michael is hesitant, because after a year spent as a free agent, she is no longer sure, if Starfleet and Discovery are still the life she wants for herself.

Way back during season 1, I wrote that there were quite a few space operas, including season 1 of Star Trek Discovery, which made me wonder why the protagonist(s) just didn’t steal a ship and ran away to become space pirates or open a restaurant or something instead of getting involved in some intergalactic war and generally getting treated badly by others. Indeed, the In Love and War series was born out of this frustration, when I decided to write the story of two people who decided to run away from it all together, though Anjali and Mikhail did not become space pirates in the end nor have they opened a restaurant yet.

However, in science fiction – particularly space opera – characters very rarely run away from the overarching plot, even if it would be in their best interest to do so. Miles Vorkosigan does for a while, but he always comes back to Barrayar. Therefore, I found it interesting that Michael at least considers running away to become a space pirate courier. Especially since unlike season 1, where Starfleet wanted to throw her into a slave labour prison for life, Michael is actually in a good place now. She is first officer, she has a crew she likes and who like her. However, her year in the wilderness has changed her. Georgiou already noticed and so does Book.

Of course, the episode is not all character development and interaction. There is also a plot, which kicks in gear when Michael reveals that she received a transmission from a Starfleet admiral named Senna Tal, who called for all surviving Starfleet vessels to return to Earth. However, the transmission is twelve years old and Michael has no idea if Admiral Tal and the rest of what remains of Starfleet are still on Earth. And due to the chronic dilithium shortage in the 32nd century, Michael also had no opportunity to go to Earth and check for herself. How lucky that the Discovery not only has plenty of dilithium, but also the magic mushroom drive, which can take them to Earth in the blink of an eye. What about the danger to the mycellium network posed by the spore drive? Well, we forgot all about that and will continue to use the spore drive as our “Get out of jail free” card.

However, the ample dilithium supplies of the Discovery are also about to become a problem, for they make the ship a target. And since the Discovery is 900 years old, defending herself against ships with modern weapons is not going to be easy. But Michael has the perfect solution to the Discovery‘s dilemma. Store all the dilithium aboard Book’s ship (which still hasn’t aquired a name) with its handy cloaking device. Saru is not a huge fan of this plan, because he still doesn’t trust Book, but is willing to go along with it as long as Book’s ship remains in the shuttle bay of the Discovery and Book remains off his ship.  So they repair the Discovery, transfer the dilithium to Book’s ship and take off for Earth.

The Discovery reappears near Saturn and uses the impulse drive for the rest of the trip to Earth. But it’s not a happy homecoming, for once they reach Earth they promptly find themselves faced with a massive forcefield, targeted by defence systems and hailed by a woman who introduces herself as Captain N’Doye of the Earth Defence Forces. Captain N’Doye tells Discovery in no uncertain terms to get lost.

Saru is understandably confused, because he has never heard of the Earth Defence Forces. He spins a tale about how Discovery got stranded in a far off sector by the burn and has only now limped back to Earth with the descendants of the original crew on board. As for why their ship is so old, it’s a good ship, so why waste it? And besides, the Discovery only wants to check in with Starfleet headquarters.

N’Doye tells Saru that Starfleet headquarters are long gone, moved off planet, and no, she had no idea where. Admiral Tal, whose message Michael intercepted, died in an accident. Oh yes, and Earth has zero interest in rebuilding the Federation, because they’ve gone all isolationist in the meantime. I gues we could call it Earxit.

N’Doye also tells Saru that the Discovery will be boarded for an inspection to make sure they don’t have stolen or smuggled goods aboard.  Saru does not at all agree with this, but he has little choice, for as soon as N’Doye has said the words, her people beam aboard, holding everybody at phaser point and turning the ship upside down.

Michael spirits Book away to her quarters and makes him put on a Starfleet uniform, which gives her and us the chance to admire Book’s well-muscled chest. Book also clearly has issues with zippers and doesn’t like Starfleet uniforms at all.

Stamets is not at all happy to have N’Doye’s inspectors blunder all over his engine room. He also meets a young member of the Earth Defence Forces named Adira (Blu del Barrio) who asks plenty of questions and generally gives their best Wesley Crusher impression. Adira is the non-binary character whose introduction was much mentioned in the promo materials, which is why I’m using the “they” pronoun, even if Tilly uses a female pronoun. But then, pronoun stickers are apparently not a thing in the 32nd century (and why not? They would be easy to add to a badge?).

N’Doye also reveals that Earth is having trouble with a group of space pirates called the Wen who rais Earth for dilithium and other supplies. As if on cue, the Wen show up and hail Discovery. Their leader, a being in an insect-like helmet, demands that Discovery hand over all her dilithium. N’Doye orders her people to fire upon the Wen. Saru lets her know in no uncertain terms that she has no authority on his ship and that there will be no shooting at anybody on his watch.

The stand-off becomes more tense when it turns out that N’Doye’s people cannot beam from board, because the Discovery is surrounded by some kind of forcefield which messes with their personal transporters. N’Doye accuses Saru of being behind the sabotage. But the true saboteur is found much closer to home. For in the engine room, Stamets and Tilly find a mysterious device that Adira installed and deduce that they are the saboteur. However, Adira has vanished.

Meanwhile, Michael and Book work out a cunning plan to deal with the raiders without massive bloodshed. However, Michael – back to her Maverick ways of season 1 – neglects to inform Saru about her cunning plan, most likely because she knows he wouldn’t agree. “It’s better to ask for forgiveness than get permission,” she tells Book. I have no idea where that quote comes from – Wikipedia attributes it to an impressive lady named Admiral Grace Hopper – but I mainly associate it with Leroy Jethro Gibbs from NCIS, who quotes Admiral Hopper a lot. So my first reaction was, “Oh no, don’t tell me that NCIS is still going on the the 23rd century, now headed by a hologram of Gibbs and an immortal Hetty Lang.” However, I suspect Michael was quoting Admiral Hopper rather than Gibbs, if only because Star Trek, for all its attempts to be global, is still very US focussed and clearly expects the rest of the world to know American historical figures like Admiral Hopper.

Some people have issues with Michael being a Maverick, but I think it actually fits the character as she has been portrayed. For Michael’s illustrious little brother Spock is a very similar character. Spock is deeply loyal to the Enterprise and her crew,  but he also does what he thinks is right, considers orders merely suggestions and often neglects to inform Kirk or Pike about his cunning plan. Spock also tends to nerve-pinch superior officers, when they are in the way. And oddly enough, hardly anybody complains about Spock being a Maverick, whereas plenty of people complain about Michael.

Michael’s and Book’s cunning plans involves sneaking aboard Book’s ship and taking it and all the dilithium out of the shuttle bay (the episode glosses over just how Michael manages to do this, but then I suspect she has the command codes). Then they call the raiders and tell them, “We stole all the Discovery‘s dilithium and now you’re negotiating with us.”

Saru has no idea what Michael’s plan is, but he trusts her enough to know that she has one.  N’Doye doesn’t help matters at all and orders her ship to fire on the raiders and Book’s ship. Now Saru decides to put the Discovery between Book’s ship and N’Doye’s people and absorb the shot. Dettmer, who is still shaken by the crash last episode, is not at all happy with this order, but eventually obeys. The Discovery survives the shots of N’Doye’s people, though her shields are down and she suffers some damage. Meanwhile, Michael tells the raiders that if they want to negotiate, they’d better do it now, because the Discovery cannot take another shot.

The raiders agree and lower their shields, while Book cloaks his ship. Meanwhile, on the bridge of Discovery, Saru and N’Doye note that the raiders are also powering down their weapons. A moment later, Michael and Book enter the bridge, dragging along the clearly reluctant raider captain. Once the raiders lowered their shields, they beamed aboard and took the raider captain prisoner. Sadly, we do not get to see this scene.

Saru and Michael now force N’Doye and the raider captain to talk to each other and resolve their differences peacefully. Michael also tears off the raider captain’s helmet, revealing a somewhat bedraggled looking human. N’Doye is shocked, for she had no idea that her raiders were human. The raider captain reveals that he and his people are from a research colony on Titan, which had declared itself independent from Earth a century ago (Titanexit?). The colony did fine, until disaster struck and destroyed many of their habitats. Though I don’t find it very believable that Earth had no idea that the people on Titan were suffering, because Titan is a moon of Saturn. We have space probes and telescopes which can easily observe Titan even in the 21st century. And yet the hyper-advanced Earth of the 32nd century can’t even be bothered to observe what’s going on in its own solar system? Or maybe the “Earth first” types of the 32nd century just didn’t care.

The colony asked Earth for help, but Earth didn’t respond. So the Titan colonists became space pirates out of desperation, because the people of Earth are jerks and just hoard dilithium they don’t need. Saru and Michael broker an agreement and an exchange of dilithium and information between the two former enemies. Of course, N’Doye is very likely not authorised to make such decisions and the raider captain probably isn’t either. But it’s Star Trek and overly simplified conflict resolution has always been a trait of the series.

In his review, Camestros Felapton notes that “People of the Earth” feels a lot more like Star Trek than the previous two episodes and that it plays out almost like an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, down to the fact that Jonathan Frakes a.k.a. Will Riker himself is directing. He is right, too, except that rather blunt moral messages and overly pat conflict resolutions are not just a Next Generation thing, they’re a Star Trek thing. And so the original series had plenty of episodes with clumsy moral messages and very tidy solutions. See “Let that be your last battlefield” (a.k.a. the one with the people with the black and white faces) or “The Omega Glory” (a.k.a. the one with the Yangs and the Koms) or “A Private Little War” (this one has Klingons) or even “Arena” (a.k.a. the one with Gorn), which was actually an improvement on the “genocide is good” story upon which it was based. Blunt moral message in favour of collaboration rather than conflict and against isolationism have always been a feature of Star Trek. Just as “Talking to each other makes everything better” has always been a feature of Star Trek. Discovery is clearly following in those footsteps.

And even though the solution to the central dilemma of “People of the Earth” is a little too neat and easy, I personally don’t mind Discovery doing a typical Star Trek solution complete with blunt moral messaging once in a while. And “People of the Earth” manages to be less eye-rolly than some of the moral message episodes listed above.

With the conflict resolved, N’Doye allows the Discovery crew to visit Earth. And so Tilly and the bridge crew end up on the grounds of what was once Starfleet academy and find an old tree still standing that had already been there when they were cadets. Even more amazingly, the Golden Gate Bridge is still standing as well – more than 1250 years after it was built.

Michael and Saru have a heart to heart about Michael’s unauthorised decision. It’s a nice scene which shows how far these two characters have come in trusting each other compared to season 1. Michael also accepts Saru’s invitation to become his Number One, while Book and Grudge take off for parts unknown.

Meanwhile, Stamets has finally tracked down Adira, who has crawled into a Jeffries tube. The usually grumpy Stamets tells Adira that he knows they are behind the sabotage and also tells them about the magic mushrookm drive and that he is the human navigator. In turn, Adira opens up as well and reveals that they only sabotaged the transporters, so they could spend more time aboard Discovery, because they have been waiting for a Starfleet vessel to finally show up. Adira also wishes to join the crew and reveals that they know where to find Admiral Tal. For it turns out that Admiral Tal was a Trill. And upon his death, his symbiont transferred to Adira. Except that Adira cannot access all of Tal’s memories, since they are human rather than Trill.

Of course, Starfleet will not encounter the Trill and their symbionts until The Next Generation well after Discovery‘s time. But the infodump sphere nicely gives Saru and Michael the required information about how Trill symbionts work. And as we already know from The Next Generation, Trill symbionts can survive in human bodies, though it’s not an ideal solution.

I have to admit I’m not quite sure what to make of Adira yet. The fact that they are non-binary is not so revolutionary, when they’re a Trill, because Trill are non-binary by default and don’t give a fuck about gender identity. I also see a risk of Adira becoming a Wesley Crusher type know-it-all, but then many of the issues with Wesley were due to bad writing. not to mention, as Camestros Felapton points out, that Discovery already has a lot of characters, several of which (the bridge crew) are underdeveloped, so do we really need another main character? On the other hand, I enjoyed seeing grumpy Stamets bonding with Adira and I can see Stamets and Culber making good adoptive parents for Adira. So I guess we’ll see what they do with the character.

All in all, this was an enjoyable episode, though not quite up to the standards of the first two of the season. The moral message was rather blunt and the solution overly simple, but then it’s Star Trek and sometimes, Star Trek‘s just gonna Star Trek.

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Indie Speculative Fiction of the Month for October 2020

It’s that time of the month again, time for “Indie Speculative Fiction of the Month”.

So what is “Indie Speculative Fiction of the Month”? It’s a round-up of speculative fiction by indie and small press authors (as well as the occasional Big 5 book) newly published this month, though some September books I missed the last time around snuck in as well. The books are arranged in alphabetical order by author. So far, most links only go to Amazon.com, though I may add other retailers for future editions.

Once again, we have new releases covering the whole broad spectrum of speculative fiction. This month, we have urban fantasy, epic fantasy, historical fantasy, dark fantasy, young adult fantasy, paranormal mysteries, paranormal romance, science fiction romance, space opera, military science fiction, young adult science fiction, post-apocalyptic fiction, dystopian fiction, biopunk, agripunk, time travel, weird western, historical horror, gothic horror, humorous horror, vampires, demons, dragons, dinosaurs, ghosts, zombies, gods, androids, alien invasions, interstellar wars, space marines, superheroes, renegades, crime-busting witches, crime-busting psychics and much more.

Don’t forget that Indie Speculative Fiction of the Month is also crossposted to the Speculative Fiction Showcase, a group blog run by Jessica Rydill and myself, which features new release spotlights, guest posts, interviews and link round-ups regarding all things speculative fiction several times per week.

As always, I know the authors at least vaguely, but I haven’t read all of the books, so Caveat emptor.

And now on to the books without further ado:

Gunmetal Gods by Zamil Akhtar:

They took his daughter, so Micah comes to take their kingdom. Fifty thousand gun-toting paladins march behind him, all baptized in angel blood, thirsty to burn unbelievers.

Only the janissaries can stand against them. Their living legend, Kevah, once beheaded a magus amid a hail of ice daggers. But ever since his wife disappeared, he spends his days in a haze of hashish and poetry.

To save the kingdom, Kevah must conquer his grief and become the legend he once was. But Micah writes his own legend in blood, and his righteous conquest will stop at nothing.

When the gods choose sides, a legend will be etched upon the stars.

Azalea Avenue by Cora Buhlert:

1956: On the surface, Rosemary Wilson is a happily married wife and mother, enjoying a perfect life in the quiet suburb of Shady Groves. But the house on Azalea Avenue harbours a dark secret, for Rosemary’s husband Don is an abusive drunk, who vents his frustrations on Rosemary and their three children.

After nine years of abuse, Rosemary finally decides to leave Don. But her plans of escape are interrupted, first by Don coming home early from a weekend hunting trip and then by the appearance of a flying saucer from outer space in the sky above Shady Groves…

This is a novelette of 10400 words or approx. 38 pages in the The Day the Saucers Came… series, but may be read as a standalone.

Content warning for domestic violence.

Appletree Court by Cora Buhlert:

1956: Bernie Stetson is a burglar, robbing suburban homes while their owners are not at home.

Bernie’s latest raid takes him to the subdivision of Shady Groves. But things quickly go wrong. First, the house Bernie is robbing turns out to be not as deserted as he thought. And then, a flying saucer from outer space appears in the sky above Shady Groves…

This is a short story of 3600 words or approx. 14 print pages in the The Day the Saucers Came… series, but may be read as a standalone.

Willowbrook Farm by Cora Buhlert:

1956: The elderly farmer couple Bob and Mary Graham are crushed by debt and about to lose the family farm to a greedy developer.

But on the day they are supposed to be evicted, a flying saucer from outer space appears in the sky above Willowbrook Farm…

This is a short story of 2700 words or approx. 10 print pages in the The Day the Saucers Came… series, but may be read as a standalone.

The Ghosts of Doodenbos by Cora Buhlert:

The Netherlands in the year of the Lord 1571: The young widow Ann lives alone with her little son Florentijn in a house at the edge of the woods.

From childhood on, Ann has been told to never ever go alone into the woods. But when her little son runs away, Ann has no choice. She must venture into the forest to save Florentijn from the creatures that live in the woods surrounding the village of Doodenbos.

This is a historical horror short story of 3000 words or approx. 12 pages.

Puncture Wounds by Cora Buhlert:

Every morning, Brett finds blood on his sheets and mysterious puncture wounds on his body. But as he tries to trap the “night pricker”, as he calls his unseen assailant, he’s in for a surprise…

The house at Green Corner has been standing there for fifty years now, surrounded by a tall fence and even taller hedges. And at dawn, bats flutter around the overgrown garden. No one has ever seen the owner of the house, let alone spoken to them. But early one morning, paper girl Maddie decides to venture beyond the tall hedges on a dare and finds something very unexpected…

Two modern vampire tales by Hugo finalist Cora Buhlert of 5000 words or approx. 18 print pages altogether.

Demon Summoning for Beginners by Cora Buhlert:

When observing a magical ritual in the woods, make sure to take precautions…

If you try to summon a demon to grant you your heart’s fondest desire, you’d better get your Latin right…

When studying ancient grimoires, it’s never a good idea to actually read the contents out loud or you might just cause the end of the world…

Following your grandma’s heirloom recipe might just conjure up something other than marinara sauce…

Four short humorous horror tales of rituals gone very wrong by Hugo finalist Cora Buhlert of 5800 words or approx. 20 print pages altogether.

Rhonda Wray, Raptor Wrangler by Charon Dunn and Sally Smith:

Rhonda Wray: Raptor Wrangler is about a teenage girl who was innocently trying to listen to some live music … her favorite boy band happened to be playing a festival on a dinosaur planet … when bad things suddenly happened. Now she and her trusty robot are all alone in the wilderness, picking up survival skills and looking for her favorite singer, Sebastian Rose, just in case he needs to be rescued.

There’s hard science, explosions, plenty of dinosaurs (with feathers), diversity, no sex (although there are a few references to it), less violence than many dinosaur stories, cliffhangers galore, and a little bogus science just to honor the fine tradition of speculative fiction (what if raptors had syrinxes and could sing like birds?).

Blood Succession by Rachel Ford:

A new queen. An ancient feud. A succession bought in blood.

The world changed in the blink of an eye. Once an estranged cousin to the king, Aria is now heir apparent to the South. With her nation still in the midst of an unjust war, torn by Byzantine politics and rampant treachery, the inheritance seems a curse. Not least of all because peacemaking between the distant branches of the royal family means marriage: her marriage.

Among the sycophants and assassins, politicians and spies, Aria knows who to trust: no one. She doesn’t trust her intended, Augustus. She doesn’t trust his smart talking half-sister, Terese. But when the young woman saves her life, the queen’s guard begins to slip.

Which is a problem. Because if she crosses the rest of the royal family, it won’t just be a war with the North she’ll have to contend with; it’ll be civil war.

Dryker’s Stand by Chris Fox:

Humanity’s First Interstellar War

Earth has had a year to recover from their first clash with the savage Tigris. A year they have put to incredible use. Over thirty vessels have been outfitted with the new Helios Drives, which allow them to enter our sun and emerge elsewhere in the galaxy, as the cats did when they attacked us.

For the first time we can take the fight to them.

Commander Dryker, now of the U.F.C, serves as first officer aboard the very first vessel to be retrofitted, the UFC Johnston. His mission…explore the six target worlds where they believe ancient Primo tech can be recovered. Without it mankind is doomed to a protracted war of attrition with a superior foe.

Meanwhile, Pride Leonis has never been in so precarious a position. Mighty Fizgig must aid the man she most hates in his rise to power, or risk her people’s ultimate destruction. Doing so will cost her everything, but make her a legend in the eyes of her people.

Unbeknownst to either the insidious Void Wraith are quietly returning, and preparing the next Eradication.

The Bison Agenda by Aaron Frale:

Clara has it all, a swanky new job, a hot robot babe, and even a time machine. Paradise all comes crashing down when she realizes her ticket to the future was stolen.

She wakes up in a world that has been reshaped by the whim of a time traveler with a strange obsession with bison and chicken wings. Now she has to fix the timeline, or everyone she knows and loves will be wiped from existence.

There’s also a lot of flightless birds.

Find out how it all fits together in The Bison Agenda, the not anticipated sequel of Time Burrito.

[image error] Admiral Wolf by C. Gockel:

To protect the human race, 6T9 evolved with the flip of a switch and a few lines of code.

But he’s made himself a killer as well as a protector. The programming that may save humanity has driven him from Volka, the woman he loves. In the heart of the Dark’s first strike against the Republic, 6T9 must discover what he has become, who he wants to be, and who he wants to be with.

Slowly and almost unnoticed, Volka has been evolving, too. Heartbroken by 6T9’s departure, she is torn between love and duty. Accepting the latter, she takes a mission that will lead her to the edge of the universe. There, she will be tested, and her evolution will pass a point where there will be no turning back.

An android who has become more than a sex ‘bot, a mutant who has developed startling abilities, 6T9 and Volka have become more than human. The changes they’ve endured may save the galaxy, but have driven them further apart.

Will they find a way forward together, or will the bond between them wind up another casualty of the Dark?

The Judgment of Valene by Darby Harn:

Wealth. Privilege. Superpowers. Valene has it all… except any mercy from the person trying to kill her.

For the first time in her life, Valene Blackwood has peace. She’s been aboard her own private space station for a year, removed from the sonic duress of the world that she suffers due to her superhuman ability to hear everything, everywhere. When her father dies, she must return and take over the family business – selling superhuman protection for profit.

With her father gone, challengers emerge for control of Great Power. Valene is young, unproven, and wanting only to go back to her sanctuary in the sky. She struggles to stay focused, knowing the future of the company is at stake. The future of the Empowered. Before she has a chance to get her feet on the ground, someone tries to kill her.

Advanced technology nearly rips Valene right out of her own skin. Technology only one person in the world could have invented: the woman she left behind by going up to the space station. Kit Baldwin. But Kit is a hero. Is someone setting her up? Is someone trying to ruin them both?

Valene sets out to find the truth, and for the first time in her life, she has to listen. She has to stay in the world. She has to be the hero she never wanted to be.

If she can survive.

Vengeance of the Black Rose by A.W. Hart:

LINA MUST AGAIN PUT ON HER MASK AND ASSUME HER IDENTITY AS THE BLACK ROSE.

The Black Rose discovers that a small mission on the border of Texas and Mexico has been raided by someone locals call “The Beast.”

Many are dead but most of the women and children are missing. The trail of the kidnappers leads the Black Rose into Mexico, into a hidden valley where “The Beast” is raising an army to restore the Aztec Empire. “The Beast,” known by his followers as “El Tigre,” is human but something of a physical mutant whose face resembles that of a Jaguar.

The Black Rose will face an army with only a good sword arm and a fast gun between her and death for them all on a bloody altar.

Dances With Witches by Lily Harper Hart:

Hannah Hickok is struggling. After the death of one of her workers, a woman who had been making life difficult, Hannah finds she is awash in a myriad of feelings she can’t quite put a name to. Things don’t get better when, following a romantic dinner with her boyfriend Cooper Wyatt, magic and mechanics collide in a multi-vehicle accident that looks to have been caused by a dark shadow. One of the survivors, a young teenager, could be shuffled into the system if someone doesn’t step up.

Sheriff Boone is the one who swoops in and brings the girl home, but all is not well. It seems something dark is chasing the girl, and it’s not of the human variety.

Hannah doesn’t know much – her knowledge as a witch is still growing – but she’s certain she needs to help the girl. It won’t be as easy as she hopes, though, because dark clouds are brewing and more than one storm is about to descend.

Hannah couldn’t save her employee and she’s haunted. She vows this girl will be different, even if she has to sacrifice herself to keep her safe.

Casper Creek has a long and storied past and old players are about to become new threats. Saddle up, because it’s going to be a bumpy ride.

Hyperia Jones and the Olive Branch Caper by David M. Kelly:

The Hype is real!

Hyperia Jones is at the top of her game, and she knows it. By day, a glamorous pro-rasseler who dominates the TwistCube world of FIRE–the Federation of Interstellar Rassling Entertainment. By night, the daring, resourceful, and entirely unscrupulous Tekuani, master thief.

But when the law catches up with her unexpectedly, she’s forced to accept a dangerous mission working for the very people who’ve been trying to catch her for years, and steal evidence against a powerful drug smuggling operation that reaches deep into the elite levels of Seventeen Realms society.

Now it’s a battle on all fronts. Hyperia must put everything on the line and decide what means the most to her: the lives of her fellow rasslers or her freedom.

The Plot Against Heaven by Mark Kirkbride:

Hell-bent on confronting God after the death of wife Kate, Paul gate-crashes Heaven. With immigration problems and a wall, Heaven turns out to be nowhere near as welcoming as expected. Both Heaven and Hell are modern and militarized, and the cold war that exists between them is about to heat up, with him in the middle of it. Caught on the wrong side of Heaven, Paul faces an impossible choice if he’s to have any hope of seeing his wife again.

Death doesn’t stand a chance against love.

 

[image error] Medici of Ackbarr by Erme Lander:

“The men go mad eventually – unable to separate themselves from the cats they control. The women? They fare little better…”

The words from Lin’s journal haunt Mika as she gains her Medici qualifications. Left homeless by his death, she tries to escape her grief by burying herself in her work, only to discover both old and new enemies waiting in the wings.

The events in this book take place about five years after those in “Blood Lore”, Book Two of The Medici Chronicles.

A Dark Infection by Erme Lander:

A voice in the dark, “You have taken my Consort. You’ll give her up and take me instead, Kalmár.”

It has been ten years since Tina was kidnapped by Kalmár and she has settled into the twilight world of vampires and their pets. However circumstances and her own body are changing faster than she realises, leaving her vulnerable to those who would take advantage.

A different reality intrudes as she stumbles across her daughter, now a young woman, forcing her to make hard choices between the two worlds, both inimical to each other. To survive she must gamble with those most precious to her, while fighting to keep her both her sanity and humanity intact.

Caffeinated Calamity by Amanda M. Lee:

The only witch in the world? It might feel like it to Stormy Morgan but she knows better.

Twenty minutes away, in a town called Hemlock Cove, witches have taken over. Sure, the bulk of the town is made up of frauds looking to shore up their tourism industry, but there are real witches, too. There’s a family, last name of Winchester, and they’re notorious. Stormy wants to meet them but she has a myriad of problems darkening her doorstep.

The first is Hunter Ryan, her childhood love who is back in her life and ready to take the next step, which is formal dating … just as soon as he’s given proper respect to his previous relationship. While Stormy is waiting for that to happen, she runs to the aid of customer at the family diner when the older woman collapses as she’s leaving after breakfast. Before Stormy can offer even a dollop of help, though, the woman is dead and there are more questions than answers.

When the cause of death is determined to be poison, Stormy and Hunter have to follow a tangled trail of clues … and it leads them straight to the senior center. It seems the victim was a regular visitor there, and one of the better euchre players at the lauded weekly tournaments. Is that a motive for murder, though?

Stormy has her hands full with out-of-control euchre madness, magic she is trying to control, and hormones that are threatening to run rampant. When she finally makes it to Hemlock Cove, her nerves threaten to get the best of her.

She needs help. This is a world she doesn’t understand. The truth has to come out, but is she ready? It might not matter because a murderer has marked Stormy for death. It’s up to her and her motley crew of friends and family to save the day … if they can all come together as a team.

That will be easier said than done.

Of Fury and Fangs by Kyoko M.:

Someone wants Dr. Rhett “Jack” Jackson dead.

After surviving a vicious attack from a dragon in his own home, Jack and Dr. Kamala Anjali investigate who sent the dragon to kill him. Unfortunately, their list of enemies is long. Plenty of people have an axe to grind with the two scientists responsible for the rebirth of the previously extinct dragons that are now flourishing on every continent of the planet. Jack and Kamala rejoin with their team at the Knight Division to hunt down the culprit and put an end to their revenge scheme once and for all.

But will it cost them everything?

Of Fury and Fangs is the fourth novel in the Amazon and USA Today bestselling Of Cinder and Bone series, following Of Cinder and Bone, Of Blood and Ashes, and Of Dawn and Embers.

[image error] Refuge by Jessica Marting:

Brother Rordan came to at a monks’ temple with no memory of who he was or where he’d been, and he’s content to leave his forgotten life in the past. All that matters is his future as a monk in service to the all-knowing stars.

Dasha Caron crash-landing at his temple changes everything for him: she makes him question his beliefs and monk’s lifestyle. She also brings the devastating news that he’s really a cyborg, and he has a price on his head.

 

Demon Prints by Nazri Noor:

What if the chosen one was kind of a dirtbag?

Quilliam J. Abernathy is the Chosen of Asmodeus, destined to become demonkind’s greatest weapon against heaven and humanity. Honing his arcane gifts in both modern California and the depths of hell, Quill is a prideful, powerful sorcerer, his magic surging with every tome he adds to his arcane collection.

But a botched mission incurs Asmodeus’s wrath, and Quill is stripped of his sorcery, protections, even his beloved books. Oh, and a duo of deadly angels wants him dead, too. Quill must decide. Either obey Asmodeus, reclaim his magic, and embody the apocalypse… or rebel against hell.

Spoiler alert: We’re doomed either way.

Demon Prints is the first adventure in the Infernal Inheritance urban fantasy series, set in the same universe as Darkling Mage and Sins of the Father. Witness Quilliam’s unholy ascent in an intense supernatural suspense series filled with demons, devilry, and danger.

Darkspace Renegade by G.J. Ogden:

The interstellar bridges provide a lifeline for billions.

To save humanity the Darkspace Renegades must tear them all down.

Unjustly kicked out of the Consortium Security Force, Hallam Knight has been reduced to working as a gunner, defending the precious Randenite fuel tankers from notorious extremists, the Darkspace Renegades.

Hell-bent on ending bridge travel for good, the Darkspace Renegades threaten to tear down the interstellar travel network that supports billions of lives, across a dozen worlds.

The Darkspace Renegades are outlaws and radicals. Or so Hallam thought.

When a violent encounter with infamous mercenary group, the Blackfire Squadron, almost costs him his life, Hallam Knight finds himself at the mercy of the Darkspace Renegades and their mysterious and enigmatic leader.

Hallam Knight discovers that everything he thought he knew was a lie. Far from being the enemy, the Darkspace Renegades are humanity’s only hope – they just don’t know it yet.

The Consortium taught Hallam that no good deed goes unpunished. They’re about to find out that karma’s a bitch.

The Acheron by Rick Partlow:

Sandi and Ash never set out to be heroes.

She joined the Fleet to please her mother, the Admiral.

He signed up to escape the grinding poverty of the Housing Blocks.

And the unlikely friends envisioned boring, peacetime careers as shuttle pilots. The Tahni Imperium had other ideas…

Caught in the desperate fury of the Battle for Mars, the two young pilots wind up the last defense against an alien armada, but their war is just beginning. Recruited to fly the Fleet’s newest weapon in this new war, they take the fight deep into the heart of the Imperium and battle not just against the enemy but against incompetent leadership and ineffectual tactics.

Can the unconventional strategies of a pair of hotshot young pilots change the course of the war? And when the time comes that a choice has to be made between duty to command and loyalty to a friend, which of the two will be willing to make one last flight alone…

[image error] Ghost Dance by Christine Pope:

An angel has returned to Paris. But is it the Angel of Music…or Death?

Two years have passed since Christine fled the opera house, put the memories and the horror behind her. And yet, in her dreams, she still hears his voice, feels his moth-light touch on her throat.

The rumors involving the legendary Opera Ghost are merely newspaper sensationalism. The Opera Ghost is dead. His tragic life, his epic opera, his obsession with her voice…ended. But with a slow, heart-pounding dread, Christine lets a lie slip from her lips, and heads for Paris. Alone. Because she has to know if Erik is dead. Or if he’s alive…and wreaking his vengeance.

Inheritance by Joyce Reynolds-Ward:

YOU CAN’T ESCAPE THE INHERITANCE OF THE PAST…OR CAN YOU?

Rancher Ruby Barkley and her ex-husband Gabe Ramirez are competing head-to-head for the AgInnovator game show’s new one-shot award, the Ag Superhero. The winner walks away with $3.75 million per year for five years, with no accountability or need to re-earn the Superhero, unlike the Innovator’s other awards.

But issues beyond those raised by their long-ago acrimonious divorce face Ruby and Gabe. Fence cutting. Rogue biobots destructively ranging beyond programmed parameters. Physical attacks. And the realization that they may need to reunite to save their son Brandon from indentured servitude.

Then the secret shadow of Gabe’s hidden inheritance reveals itself. Will he step up to the Martiniere Legacy—and what role will Ruby accept in any future they may share?

The Legacy of Tomorrow by Audrey Sharpe:

Her strength is her greatest weakness.

Protecting others has always been Aurora Hawke’s defining characteristic — until a fierce battle with her mortal enemy creates devastating results, proving she’s more weapon than human.

Haunted by apocalyptic visions of her future and pursued by the ghosts of her past, she makes the only logical decision.

Run.

Abandoning her ship and crew goes against everything she holds dear, but it’s the only way to safeguard those she loves from the greatest threat of all — herself.

Shadows of the Fall by Glynn Stewart:

Fifty thousand years ago, the Precursors broke the universe.

Now great powers and small alike fight over their wreckage.

But in the midst of the chaos, there is a question no one asks…

Why?

Morgan Casimir, commander of the A!Tol Imperial cruiser Defiant, has seen the works of the Precursor aliens known as the Alava. She has seen their accidents threaten worlds and consume entire star fleets.

Charged by her Empress to prevent a conspiracy of profiteers from finding and using a lost fleet of Alava warships, she knows unimaginable catastrophe looms if she fails. With her lover, xenoarcheologist Dr. Rin Dunst, at her side, she is sent to a hot zone on the edge of war to once again achieve the impossible.

But as they search along a border flaring in violence, Morgan discovers that if the worst comes to pass, her orders are to destroy the ships rather than allow them to be taken…and she realizes that there just might be a reason seemingly godlike aliens lost an entire fleet.

Triton: The Descendants War by John Walker:

Commander Titus Barnes struggles to save his ship.

War brews on the horizon and the crew of the TCN Triton get caught in the middle. When they answer a distress call from one of their colonies on the edge of their space, they end up outmatched and outgunned by an unknown force. This conflict may well push humanity into a new age…or spell the beginning of the end for their race.

Meanwhile, two archaeologists work to uncover evidence of alien life on a far off planet. As they make what might be the biggest discovery of the human race, their activities trigger an alert, drawing dangerous forces to investigate. Cut off from any quick help and on their own, they must use every trick at their disposal to stay alive.

Into the White by Daniel Willcocks:

If the storm must taketh, it must surely giveth, too?

Their numbers are dwindling, the storm shows no sign of relenting. Yet, at the edge of the Drumtrie Forest, a strange phenomenon is occurring: dozens of the pale white beasts standing guard.

Over what?

Cody is gone; missing in the white. Tori has reunited with her sister, but it wasn’t the celebration she planned. Karl is lost to the wants and desires of the Masked Ones.

And, from out of the storm, comes a stranger who may hold all the answers to unravelling the mystery once and for all…

If the wendigos will let her.

Geek Fire by Mel Woodburn:

Honors student, Emma Edgin, never thought she’d be a superhero, but she never thought she’d fail a class or be diagnosed autistic either.

After a strange craft flies over the West Coast, Emma sneezes a fireball and starts flying.

Emma doesn’t want to be a hero. She’s got to focus on passing English and keeping the new Super Commission agent from noticing her.

Too bad so many people need saving.

Geek Fire is the first novel in the Dragon Girl Series. If you like nerdy heroes and conspiracies, then you’ll love this series!

Web of Nightmares by P.D. Workman:

Psychic Reg Rawlins is hoping to get her life back to normal, or some semblance of it. With the gems she was given by the fairies for saving Calliopia’s life, she doesn’t need to worry about money. Maybe never again. She can just relax, get the sleep she needs, and not have to worry about hustling a living.

Life is better with money. Maybe she’ll even take up a hobby. Travel. Visit Erin.

But the rest of the world seems to have other ideas. Reg senses that all is not well in Black Sands. She is plagued by nightmares and visions, but her ability to consciously access her powers is limited.

A fun, full-length paranormal cozy mystery with a captivating cat, drop-dead gorgeous warlock, and magical races as you’ve never read them before.

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Indie Crime Fiction of the Month for October 2020

Welcome to the latest edition of “Indie Crime Fiction of the Month”.

So what is “Indie Crime Fiction of the Month”? It’s a round-up of crime fiction by indie authors newly published this month, though some September books I missed the last time around snuck in as well. The books are arranged in alphabetical order by author. So far, most links only go to Amazon.com, though I may add other retailers for future editions.

Our new releases cover the broad spectrum of crime fiction. We have cozy mysteries, small town mysteries, historical mysteries, Victorian mysteries, Jazz Age mysteries, paranormal mysteries, police procedurals, crime thrillers, adventure thrillers, action thrillers, psychological thrillers, domestic thrillers, western thrillers, military thrillers, police officers, amateur sleuths, private investigators, ex-Navy SEALs, organised crime, kidnapping, crime-busting witches, crime-busting socialites, crime-busting realtors, crime-busting psychics, environmental disasters and much more.

Don’t forget that Indie Crime Fiction of the Month is also crossposted to the Indie Crime Scene, a group blog which features new release spotlights, guest posts, interviews and link round-ups regarding all things crime fiction several times per week.

As always, I know the authors at least vaguely, but I haven’t read all of the books, so Caveat emptor.

And now on to the books without further ado:

A Thread of Madness by Blythe Baker:

A sudden death uncovers a string of secrets in a small village…

When seamstresses Iris and Lily Dickinson are accidental witnesses to a murder, the spinster sisters resolve to keep themselves – and their pristine reputations – a discreet distance away from the sordid business. But the unexpected discovery that the killer might be in their very midst soon changes everything, sparking an urgent desperation to ferret out his identity.

While assisting the local constable in his investigation, Iris stumbles across a family mystery of her own, a buried secret that calls into question everything she thinks she knows about her sister. With Iris’s once-blind faith in Lily shaken, can the sisters unite long enough to escape the schemes of a dangerous lunatic?

Betrayed Heroes by Gregg Bell:

The US president’s seven-year-old nephew has been kidnapped. The nation is horrified, but the crime turns out to be just the break that disgraced former Navy SEALs Shelby Ryder and Earl Bernstein need. If they’re able to rescue the boy, who’s being held somewhere in the Florida Everglades, the president assures them he’ll restore their SEAL trident pins.

But something’s not right.

Support people don’t show. Others won’t reveal their names. Many seem more mercenary than military. Shelby and Earl are suspicious, but they’re desperate to be SEALs again, and there’s a boy out there in need of rescue. And so, into the depths of the humid, alligator-infested Everglades they venture, to start a mission they were never intended to survive.

[image error] The Wicked Fringe of Mystery by Beth Byers:

November 1925

Severine DuNoir has discovered who has been hunting her. Now she needs to discover why. As the foes circle each other, their friends and family get drawn into the conflict.

Just who can Severine trust? How can she stop him? And what will happen to those she loves if she fails? She’s all too afraid the answer is one she won’t be able to live with.

 

Corridor Man: Bye Bye Bobby by Mike Faricy:

Things are about to change…

– Bobby Custer is looking to take the organization in a new direction.

– He just has to get everyone on board.

– No better way to do it than with rewards!

– Of course there are some loose ends…

– People who don’t want to change!

– People who secretly question Bobby’s decisions!

It’s an exhausting time! BYE BYE BOBBY!

Deadly Pursuit by Elle Gray:

Tick. Tock… The clock is ticking.

Time is running out for Paxton Arrington.

The choice he must make could be the difference between life and death.

Paxton Arrington had an upbringing of wealth and privilege. Rather than live the life of a corporate CEO, Paxton chose to become one of Seattle’s finest. He’s a man with a rigid and unyielding personality and a belief of always doing the right thing.

When he stumbles onto corruption in his own precinct, Paxton finds himself in a precarious position with no simple way out of it.

Going head to head with Detective Sergeant Radley and his highly decorated Strike Team is career suicide. More than that, he fears that taking them on could have a ripple effect of unintended consequences.

Drawn into a web of deceit and danger.

Paxton enlists his good friend, FBI Special Agent Blake Wilder to help him get the evidence he needs to bring the Strike Team down once and for all.

With forces aligning against him, Paxton must make a decision that could cost him everything.

One that will forever change his life.

Dances With Witches by Lily Harper Hart:

Hannah Hickok is struggling. After the death of one of her workers, a woman who had been making life difficult, Hannah finds she is awash in a myriad of feelings she can’t quite put a name to. Things don’t get better when, following a romantic dinner with her boyfriend Cooper Wyatt, magic and mechanics collide in a multi-vehicle accident that looks to have been caused by a dark shadow. One of the survivors, a young teenager, could be shuffled into the system if someone doesn’t step up.

Sheriff Boone is the one who swoops in and brings the girl home, but all is not well. It seems something dark is chasing the girl, and it’s not of the human variety.

Hannah doesn’t know much – her knowledge as a witch is still growing – but she’s certain she needs to help the girl. It won’t be as easy as she hopes, though, because dark clouds are brewing and more than one storm is about to descend.

Hannah couldn’t save her employee and she’s haunted. She vows this girl will be different, even if she has to sacrifice herself to keep her safe.

Casper Creek has a long and storied past and old players are about to become new threats. Saddle up, because it’s going to be a bumpy ride.

The Last Resort by CeeCee James:

The mother that Stella O’Neil thought she’d lost forever is getting out of jail. Today.

Stella doesn’t know if she’s excited or terrified but one thing is for sure, everything in life feels like it’s finally settling down.

But as always in Stella’s world, nothing comes easily. When she arrives at the prison to take her mom home, she’s greeted with stunning news.

Her mother isn’t there.

Someone else picked her up.

As Stella pieces together the clues, she is more afraid than she’s ever been. She’s determined to unravel the mystery and connect the dots in order to finally connect with the mother she’s never known.

Rattlesnake Rodeo by Nick Kolakowski:

The fiery sequel to Boise Longpig Hunting Club is here…

Three nights ago, Jake Halligan and his ultra-lethal sister Frankie were kidnapped by a sadistic billionaire with a vendetta against their family. That billionaire offered them a terrible deal: Spend the next 24 hours in the backwoods of Idaho, hunted by rich men with the latest in lethal weaponry. If Jake and Frankie survived, they’d go free; otherwise, nobody would ever find their bodies.

Jake and Frankie managed to escape that terrible game, but their problems are just beginning. They’re broke, on the run, and hunted by every cop between Oregon and Montana. If they’re going to make it through, they may need to strike a devil’s bargain—and carry out a seemingly impossible crime.

Rattlesnake Rodeo is a neo-Western noir filled with incredible twists. If you want true justice against the greedy and powerful, sometimes you have no choice but to rely on the worst people…

Caffeinated Calamity by Amanda M. Lee:

The only witch in the world? It might feel like it to Stormy Morgan but she knows better.

Twenty minutes away, in a town called Hemlock Cove, witches have taken over. Sure, the bulk of the town is made up of frauds looking to shore up their tourism industry, but there are real witches, too. There’s a family, last name of Winchester, and they’re notorious. Stormy wants to meet them but she has a myriad of problems darkening her doorstep.

The first is Hunter Ryan, her childhood love who is back in her life and ready to take the next step, which is formal dating … just as soon as he’s given proper respect to his previous relationship. While Stormy is waiting for that to happen, she runs to the aid of customer at the family diner when the older woman collapses as she’s leaving after breakfast. Before Stormy can offer even a dollop of help, though, the woman is dead and there are more questions than answers.

When the cause of death is determined to be poison, Stormy and Hunter have to follow a tangled trail of clues … and it leads them straight to the senior center. It seems the victim was a regular visitor there, and one of the better euchre players at the lauded weekly tournaments. Is that a motive for murder, though?

Stormy has her hands full with out-of-control euchre madness, magic she is trying to control, and hormones that are threatening to run rampant. When she finally makes it to Hemlock Cove, her nerves threaten to get the best of her.

She needs help. This is a world she doesn’t understand. The truth has to come out, but is she ready? It might not matter because a murderer has marked Stormy for death. It’s up to her and her motley crew of friends and family to save the day … if they can all come together as a team.

That will be easier said than done.

Sorry Can’t Save You by Willow Rose:

What if you thought your husband was a murderer?

The man you loved, the man who gave you two beautiful children and a perfect life.

What if no one believed you?

Laurie Davis is the mother of two children, struggling to keep her family together since her husband, Ryan, went to war and came back changed. His PTSD is evident.

He wakes up at night, screaming in fear; he can’t stand loud noises or anyone sneaking upon him.

He even gets aggressive toward Laurie and the children. It has gotten so bad that he can no longer stay under the same roof as his family.

When a woman from his squadron is found murdered, Laurie discovers something that makes her suspect Ryan, her own husband.

But what do you do when no one believes a decorated war hero could also be a murderer?

What if you don’t want to believe it yourself?

As more people from the squadron turn up dead, by apparent suicides, Laurie digs deeper into the case.

She is risking her own life by putting it all on the line in a race against time to avoid becoming the killer’s next victim.

Bird in Hand by Nikki Stern:

In the sequel to the award-winning THE WEDDING CRASHER, Sam Tate faces off against a vengeful killer, a mistrustful boss, a shadowy nemesis, and a 300-year-old pirate.

When Arley Fitchett’s body washes up onto Maryland’s Eastern Shore, Lieutenant Sam Tate, just two months into her new job, is charged with finding out who murdered the popular guide and treasure hunter. Fitchett, she discovers, was hunting a rare carving he believed had been stolen by Chesapeake Bay pirates in 1718 and hidden nearby. No one knows if the story is true, but several locals seem to share Fitchett’s interest in the wooden bird with the sapphire eye. Any one of them could be the next victim. One of them is definitely the killer.

Rising Warrior by Wayne Stinnett:

After returning home to the Florida Keys, Jesse moves on to Fort Myers, his hometown on the Southwest Florida coast. There is much work to be done and Jesse is no stranger to hard work.

On a kayaking adventure with friends, Jesse’s daughter finds and rescues a baby manatee suffering from respiratory problems. The red tide has returned and fish are dying by the thousands, along with dolphins, manatees, sea turtles, and sea birds.

The algal bloom is a naturally occurring phenomenon, but this time it’s much worse. Theories abound; it’s something left over from the previous spring’s coronavirus outbreak, it’s caused by pollution, someone is intentionally creating a super-algae.

But there’s something far more sinister going on among the Ten Thousand Islands, and it’s up to Jesse to find out where the bodies are buried.

Fair Cronies and Felonies by Anne R. Tan:

A new director. Budget cuts. And a fire. The senior center will never be the same again.

As the new director for the senior center, Raina Sun thought organizing a few events for the geriatric crowd would be fairly easy. Until the center’s biggest donor dies in a fire, and her grandma’s arch nemesis becomes the prime suspect. As the body count piles up, Raina is drawn into another murder investigation. Can she solve the case, or will her grandma’s arch nemesis spend the rest of her golden years in prison?

Don’t miss out on the fun. Grab your copy now.

Web of Nightmares by P.D. Workman:

Psychic Reg Rawlins is hoping to get her life back to normal, or some semblance of it. With the gems she was given by the fairies for saving Calliopia’s life, she doesn’t need to worry about money. Maybe never again. She can just relax, get the sleep she needs, and not have to worry about hustling a living.

Life is better with money. Maybe she’ll even take up a hobby. Travel. Visit Erin.

But the rest of the world seems to have other ideas. Reg senses that all is not well in Black Sands. She is plagued by nightmares and visions, but her ability to consciously access her powers is limited.

A fun, full-length paranormal cozy mystery with a captivating cat, drop-dead gorgeous warlock, and magical races as you’ve never read them before.

Send to Kindle

A Trio of Spooky New Releases and Why I Cannot Write Straight Horror

I mentioned that there would be one more new release announcement for October and here it is. It’s somewhat incomplete, because the links to Barnes & Noble are missing, since the bookseller recently suffered a cyberattack and still hasn’t managed to get their system back online two weeks later.

But first of all, I also wanted to let you know that I have two new articles up at Galactic Journey. The first one is about East and West German comics of the 1950s and 1960s. The second article is about the biggest West German movie of 1965, Winnetou III, which ends with everybody’s favourite heroic Apache chief expiring tragically in the arms of his best friend and blood brother Old Shatterhand.

But now on to the new releases. October is the spooky month, so I have three spooky new e-books to share. None of them are straight horror, because it turns out that I cannot write straight horror. Cause whenever I try to write horror, it either comes out as a parody of horror tropes or a story about trying to figure out what the spooky creature wants and how to deal with it without violence.

I’m not entirely sure why that is, especially since I grew up during the 1970s and 1980s, i.e. the heyday of the horror genre. However, I haven’t been scared by a horror movie since I was about eighteen and watched the original Nightmare on Elm Street on TV, while home alone. And even before that I haven’t been scared by horror movies all that often, if only because horror movies that were actually accessible – on TV and not in the cinema with an 18 certificate or banned altogether – were few and far between. In the three channel TV landscape of West Germany in the 1980s, horror films occasionally showed up on late night TV, but those were mostly older black and white films that relied on atmosphere more than gore. There were also the Dr. Mabuse and Edgar Wallace movies, which – though not straight horror – definitely have horror elements, but also mainly rely on atmosphere.

Meanwhile, the horror movies of the 1970s and 1980s were not at all easy to watch, if you were a teenager in Germany, because Germans are more sensitive to violence than Americans or Italians, whence those movies mostly hailed, and so any horror movie to reach our shores was either cut to ribbons or had an eighteen certificate slapped on it or both. The original Evil Dead was unavailable in Germany until a few years ago, because it was apparently too horrible for us to watch. If you had a VCR and knew someone who could rent 18+ movies, you could watch horror films, but otherwise you were out of luck. There was a moral panic about horror movie inciting teenagers to… well, I’m not entirely sure what horror movies were supposed to do to teenagers, but it was bad. One movie which came in for particular scrutiny was a 1980 Troma movie called Mother’s Day, which archieved near legendary status as a movie everybody had heard of, but almost no one had seen. And those who claimed to have seen it usually hadn’t seen it either, they simply made something up based what they’d heard. The trailer for Mother’s Day is here BTW, if you want to see what the fuss was all about.

As a result, I didn’t get to see most horror movies at the age when they would have scared me. And by the time, I finally got to see the films – once private TV had come to Germany – I was usually underwhelmed because what my mind had conjured up was usually scarier than the reality. Not to mention that a lot of horror movie tropes are rather silly, especially since most of those movies were made for a very different cultural context. People in Germany simply weren’t particularly bothered about teenagers having – gasp – sex, while camping in the woods, and certainly didn’t think this was a crime worth killing people for.

However, I also had issues even with those horror movies – usually more traditional vampire, ghost and monster fare – that I actually was able watch. For quite often, I found myself sympathising with the supernatural creature. One movie I remember infuriating me was House of Dark Shadows, a 1970 spin-off of the US horror soap opera Dark Shadows. In the movie, a young woman gets bitten and turned by Barnabas Collins. She is buried and returns as a vampire, bites someone and then several members of her own family hold her down, while someone stakes her. This scene absolutely infuriated me, because the young woman had been these people’s daughter, girlfriend, sister and yet they murdered her in cold blood. And besides, it wasn’t her fault that she was a vampire and that she was hungry. Surely it would be possible for her to live on blood donations.

Other films elicited similar reactions. “Okay, so the house is haunted, but why not try to coexist with the ghosts? After all, it’s their home, too.” – “Okay, so someone is possessed by a demon, but where exactly is the problem? Why not share the body with the demon and come to an agreement?” That’s also why I immediately took to urban fantasy, when I became popular, because here finally were stories which asked the same questions I had asked myself for years at that point.

As a result, whenever I try to write horror, it usually comes out either as parody or a story where the protagonists try to figure out what the monsters want and how to deal with them without violence. All of the stories I am going to announce today fall into one of those categories. Coincidentally, all of them were July challenge stories, too.

The first new story is of the latter type, where the characters try to figure out what the spooky creatures want. It is a historical fantasy tale set in the Netherlands during the the Eighty-Years-War, during which the Netherlands attempted and eventually succeeded in getting rid of the Spanish occupation. A large part of the issue was that the Netherlands were largely Protestant and found themselves faced with the Spanish Inquisition (which they no more expected than anybody else).

Now my Dad worked in the Netherlands, when I was a teenager, and I usually spent my holidays there and got in contact with the local pop culture. And the Eighty-Years War still looms large in Dutch memory and popular culture just as the Thirty-Years-War a little later looms in the German memory. So I learned about the Eighty-Years War by cultural osmosis from comic books and a book on the history of Rotterdam that someone had given my Dad and that I read when I ran out of reading material.

The actual inspiration for the story was a piece of fantasy art, namely this one by Michael MacRae. It’s an evocative piece that somehow made me think of the Netherlands in the 16th century. The story grew from there.

The problem when writing historical fiction (or historical fantasy) set during less explored periods is how much information the reader needs to tell them when and where the story is set. The first draft contained references to the Lowlands, William of Orange, the Spanish oppressors and people executed for heresy, which seemed completely sufficient to me to let the reader know when and where the story is set. However, the Eighty-Years War is not all that well known to people outside the Netherlands, so I also explicitly mentioned the year and the place where the story is set.

So follow Ann and her little son Florentijn as they confront…

The Ghosts of Doodenbos

[image error]The Netherlands in the year of the Lord 1571: The young widow Ann lives alone with her little son Florentijn in a house at the edge of the woods.

From childhood on, Ann has been told to never ever go alone into the woods. But when her little son runs away, Ann has no choice. She must venture into the forest to save Florentijn from the creatures that live in the woods surrounding the village of Doodenbos.

This is a historical horror short story of 3000 words or approx. 12 pages.

 

More information.

Length: 3000 words

List price: 0.99 USD, EUR or GBP

Buy it at Amazon US, Amazon UK, Amazon Germany, Amazon France, Amazon Netherlands, Amazon Spain, Amazon Italy, Amazon Canada, Amazon Australia, Amazon Brazil, Amazon Japan, Amazon India, Amazon Mexico, Kobo, Barnes & Noble, Apple iBooks, Google Play, Scribd, Smashwords, Thalia, Weltbild, Hugendubel, Buecher.de, DriveThruFiction, Casa del Libro, Vivlio, 24symbols and XinXii.

While going through my backlog of unpublished stories, most of them July short story challenge stories, I realised that I had written no less than four stories featuring demon summoning rituals gone terribly wrong and thought, “Well, that’s enough for a collection then.” And this is how Demon Summoning for Beginners was born.

During the July short story challenge, I often use fantasy art as writing prompts and so two of the stories were inspired by pieces of fantasy art, namely this one by Nele Diehl and this one by David Velasquez.

Another story was inspired by watching an episode of Supernatural and getting annoyed at the badly mangled Latin used during a magical ritual. So I thought, “Well, if I’m annoyed, how annoyed will a demon be. And how will mangled Latin or mangled Hebrew affect a ritual?” The story grew from there.

The final story was inspired by noticing that the instruction for magical potions and spells and recipes for food often look remarkably similar, only that there are stranger ingredients in the former. So I thought, “What if a recipe accidentally conjures up a demon?”

These stories all fall into the parody category. Though the characters also try to figure out how to deal with a demon that none of them actually expected to show up.

So get ready for a lesson in…

Demon Summoning for Beginners

[image error]When observing a magical ritual in the woods, make sure to take precautions…

If you try to summon a demon to grant you your heart’s fondest desire, you’d better get your Latin right…

When studying ancient grimoires, it’s never a good idea to actually read the contents out loud or you might just cause the end of the world…

Following your grandma’s heirloom recipe might just conjure up something other than marinara sauce…

Four short humorous horror tales of rituals gone very wrong by Hugo finalist Cora Buhlert of 5800 words or approx. 20 print pages altogether.

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Length: 5800 words

List price: 0.99 USD, EUR or GBP

Buy it at Amazon US, Amazon UK, Amazon Germany, Amazon France, Amazon Netherlands, Amazon Spain, Amazon Italy, Amazon Canada, Amazon Australia, Amazon Brazil, Amazon Japan, Amazon India, Amazon Mexico, Kobo, Barnes & Noble, Apple iBooks, Google Play, Scribd, Smashwords, Thalia, Weltbild, Hugendubel, Buecher.de, DriveThruFiction, Casa del Libro, Vivlio, 24symbols and XinXii.

The final new release for this month is a collection of two short vampire stories. Both of them fall under the banner of “How can you deal with a vampire without staking them?”

Both stories were July challenge stories, but one of the stories was actually written on the day of the 2020 Hugo ceremony and indeed I wrote part of the story during the neverending Hugo ceremony from hell.

The story in question, “The House at Green Corner”, is also inspired by a real house with an overgrown garden in my neighbourhood, which  looks exactly as it is described in the story.

In summer, I like taking walks in the early morning just before the sun comes up to avoid the heat of the day. And during one of those walks I noticed that there were a lot of bats fluttering around the house and its garden. Like the protagonist, I assumed that the bats probably lived in the overgrown garden. And then I thought, “Maybe the bats don’t just live in the garden, maybe they are the owners of the house and they’re all vampires.” The story grew from there.

So get ready to meet some vampires and make sure to avoid the…

Puncture Wounds

[image error]Every morning, Brett finds blood on his sheets and mysterious puncture wounds on his body. But as he tries to trap the “night pricker”, as he calls his unseen assailant, he’s in for a surprise…

The house at Green Corner has been standing there for fifty years now, surrounded by a tall fence and even taller hedges. And at dawn, bats flutter around the overgrown garden. No one has ever seen the owner of the house, let alone spoken to them. But early one morning, paper girl Maddie decides to venture beyond the tall hedges on a dare and finds something very unexpected…

Two modern vampire tales by Hugo finalist Cora Buhlert of 5000 words or approx. 18 print pages altogether.

More information.

Length: 5000 words

List price: 0.99 USD, EUR or GBP

Buy it at Amazon US, Amazon UK, Amazon Germany, Amazon France, Amazon Netherlands, Amazon Spain, Amazon Italy, Amazon Canada, Amazon Australia, Amazon Brazil, Amazon Japan, Amazon India, Amazon Mexico, Kobo, Barnes & Noble, Apple iBooks, Google Play, Scribd, Smashwords, Thalia, Weltbild, Hugendubel, Buecher.de, DriveThruFiction, Casa del Libro, Vivlio, 24symbols and XinXii.

If you want to read all of my attempts at horror fiction, the cheapest way to do so is via The Spooky Bundle, which is available exclusively at DriveThruFiction.

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