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Lunar Eclipse
A review of Artemis Magazine.
Yes, we know the recent eclipse was Solar--but we're running on a symbolic plane this bi-week and our symbol of preference is the Moon.
Moons are more common than planets, and yet there's something hypnotic about our Moon. Something so powerful and unique, we don't give our closest celestial neighbor a name, but call it simply, "The Moon". Poets, astronomers, lovers, even madmen all dream while gazing at the Moon. And even the great seas kneel to Her silver glow.
Lady E. and I have been paying particular attention to our dreams these days and we suggest you do the same. After all, dreams are the substance of fiction and vice-versa. If you look closely at that silver orb in the night sky and wish hard enough, I promise you, your dreams will come true....
 Artemis magazine is the dream notebook of the Artemis Project, a commercial venture to build a moon colony (with complimentary mining operations and lucrative tourism). Some may smile or even scoff at the notion, but after you've thumbed through a copy of the pub, you'll be smiling even wider--though for a different reason.
Ten minutes with this magazine will remind you why you fell in love with Science Fiction. And twenty minutes will have you online looking for a place to reserve your luxury-shuttle ticket and suite at the Luna Hotel.
Ironically, a good deal of that rediscovered enthusiasm will stem from the pub's non-fiction content. Such concepts as a moon ladder built with the tons of spacejunk we've left in orbit around the earth, a Lunar Lighthouse beacon to remind everyone on earth that we humans can build on that silver orb up there, and a discussion of Cold War conspiracies to weaponize the moon, will jumpstart your imagination and rescue you from lagging conversations for quite some time. There's lively debate in Artemis' letters section, regular columns (one by Allen Steele), and fascinating often emotional editorials by the pub's Master of Ceremonies, Ian Randal Strock.
Mr. Strock is himself a fascinating and accomplished man. Lady E. and I recently had the honor of interviewing him and will post the write-up very soon here at SFReader.com.
Meanwhile, onto the fiction.... The most recent issue, #7, more than amply fulfills its Numerological edict of wholeness, though there are certainly some rough edges on many of the stories and the technical jargon throughout the issue is certain to lose somebody along the way.
"Flower of the Void", by James Killus is a case in point. With a brain-twisting, tech-heavy linguistic palette, Killus limns a creation myth in ironic tones. The story relies far too heavily on exposition and as such suffers the same fate as its protagonist (a nano-tech deep-space probe) becoming a lonely beacon that sends back rare knowledge of the distant stars, unknowing and uncaring whether its data is translatable by receivers.
Like many of the writers in Artemis, Killus is a professional scientist and I think this works against him in the long run with this story. Passages of it read almost like a page of notes prepared for his day-job as an atmospheric scientist and the "co-developer of a chemical kinetic mechanism for smog formation that serves as the basis for most ozone air quality modeling performed in the United States".
If you didn't finish that last sentence, you probably won't finish ,"Flower of the Void", either. If you did finish the sentence you have a basic idea of what to expect from the story. Much like Killus' job-description, "Flower of the Void" is probably a fascinating tale, I just couldn't see through the fog of techno-ese and exposition enough to appreciate it. Fans of hard SF replete with existentialist overtones will no doubtl disagree....
 The next story is a clever and enjoyable quickie by Shane Tourtellotte, "Intelligent Conversation". In less than thirty-five paragraphs, Tourtellotte pens a warm and witty fable that incidentally champions one of my pet peeves--interspecies communication. The cynical side of me always protests when Captain Picard and the away team engage in diplomatic debate with all manner of species without the benefit of a translator, digital or analog. A nitpicking point, sure, but "Intelligent Conversation" plays skillfully with the concept and weaves a convincing minor tragedy for the protagonist while making the reader grin. A nifty story and a terrific example of literary compression.
"Birthright", by Edward Muller, is a "cozy" on the moon that proliferates Proper Names and pronouns to the point of confusion, but nonetheless is a suspenseful and intriguing read. Space Guard Officer Herman Schultz riddles out the first murder of a tourist on the moon. Muller's tale, a labyrinth of nefarious characters and double-intrigues, blends political corruption, narcissism, and futuristic ballistics in a dense, but-fast paced murder mystery. His portrayal of Adam Wu, a celebrity minor-character who is the first human born off the surface of the earth, is charismatic and provocative. Unfortunately, there are too many minor characters in this tale, with too little distinction between them. That aside, "Birthright" is an engaging and worthwhile read.
"To the Rescue", a space-pilot-in-training yarn is one of the least coherent stories in issue #7 and that is mostly due to its constant shifting of point of view, often in successive paragraphs, that feels oddly amateurish when compared to the rest of the pub's contents. I appreciated Stiles' insight into the danger and drudgery of space-flight and his technical descriptions of piloting are visceral and fascinating. He seems to have had trouble, however, in deciding whether to tell his story from the apprentice pilot, Seth Tomlin's perspective, or the POV of his mentor Jason Conner. Like the movies, "Outland" and "Alien", Stiles' story is stepped in industrial/workingman images that are in and of themselves heroic. This texture is portrayed with heartfelt realism and the technical scenes of piloting are thrilling. However, there is a schizophrenic feel, jumping back and forth from student to master, that was difficult for me to work around.
"Representative Sample", is the gem of the issue and one of the most compositionally creative near-future SF pieces, I've recently encountered. Will Ludwigsen's epistolary story epitomizes the spirit of Artemis and effectively evokes its passionate commitment to space travel--as well as granting a satirical nod in the direction of probable impediments to such ambitious dreams. Through a presentation of seven short "transmissions" from one Salvador Narcisse, CEO of Space Transport Solutions, Ltd, Ludwigsen astounds the reader with his ability to portray his characters by inference, and scribes a poignantly suspenseful revenge story that would bring Machiavelli to his knees in admiration. Like Tourtellotte's tale, "Representative Sample" is a marvel of minimalism. It's also an Anthem of the Artemis Project's strategic vision: asserting the supremacy of intellect and innovation above that of bureaucracy and greed.
"Foggy Acres Blues", by Thomas A. Easton is a confusing and brutally descriptive story of Albert Velasquez Montmorency, a decrepit old man confined to a near-future nursing home where he is responsible for administering his own care. At least that's what I think this story is about. The prose here is mainly concerned with unpleasant descriptions of ear-wax, ostomy bags, drool, sponge baths, and catheters. A thoroughly ugly story, opaque so far as the setting and exposition is concerned--and there is a half-hearted, thoroughly ineffective attempt at the end to turn all this morbid nursing-home "self-care" into a romantic and positivistic ending. At least I think there is. "Foggy Acres Blues" is one of those stories I just didn't connect with, though I'd be willing to bet somebody out there will. Easton, like Muller, seems to have an over zealous fascination with character names, spelling them out in full: "Alameda Lacama Perkins", "William McPhee Yornick", etc... This is distracting and contributes to the sense of the story being somewhat amateurish, an incongruity, given Mr. Easton's illustrious bibliography.
The last story in issue #7, "Je Me Souviens", is the most overtly spiritual of the issue's septet of stories and also the most lyrically written. A terminally ill monk who is the caretaker for the centuries old "Lunar Shrine to Home" must face his personal mortality as well as the passing of the Holy Shrine into obscurity. Edward Willett sets up this tale masterfully by describing Brother Damon's encounter with a young, female "Pilgrim" who comes to see the Shrine, ostensibly to pay homage to the first pioneers who colonized the moon and thus saved humanity from extinction due to an asteroid colliding with Earth, killing eight billion people. Ultimately, the young girl, Tia, confesses that she hasn't come to honor and remember the pioneers, but on a bet. Her friends back on Oskana, near Alpha Centauri IV no longer believe that the Shrine even exists. Through a sadly romantic prose style, more evocative than technical, Willett succeeds in creating sympathy for his protag -- also, in granting him an honorable resolution and dignity in death. A commendable tale, quite effective in showing both the subjectivity of progress and the sad, ultimate ethereality of tradition.
Artemis magazine is an exciting and intellectually challenging pub that I'm thrilled to have discovered. The price tag for all of this riveting fiction and cutting edge non-fiction is a dainty $15 a year.
And we can top even that--for one lucky reader! On June 30th we're going to give away a free one-year subscription to Artemis. All registered users at SFReader.com and SFWatcher.com (registering one one site automatically registers you on the other) are eligible to win. If you're registered, cool, you needn't do a thing. If you haven't registered with us yet, use the link the upper left (under the "Log In" button) to sign up. It's fast and free.
This bi-week's G.F. Brand Award goes to Will Ludwigsen  for his marvelous story, "Representative Sample". Congrats Will! From now on when your name appears in our column, it will be followed by our Great Fiction Brand, !!
Remember--all starships, whether fictional or real, are ultimately powered by imagination. If you want to push your imagination to light-speed and beyond, you'd better get your hands on a copy of Artemis.
All readers, writers, and other charismatics are invited to the SFReader.com Discussion Forums for conversation, rumor, and debate.
Until Next Time.
Daniel E. Blackston
Firebrand Fiction Reviews: all content © 2002, Daniel E. Blackston
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