Author Archives: Gerry Huntman
Edition 9: Book Review: The Long Earth by Terry Pratchett & Stephen Baxter
Reviewed by Damien Smith
Parallel worlds and the travelling thereto are nothing new in speculative fiction, however The Long Earth is noteworthy even before you open it as it is the first collaboration between two stalwarts of speculative fiction: Terry Pratchett and Stephen Baxter.
Edition 9: Blockbuster by Rik Hoskin
I’m sure all of us, at one time or another, have considered the permeating influence of the film industry on our world, beyond entertainment. We usually conclude that it is profound, and as far back as the great propaganda machines of the ‘inter-war’ years in the last century. Rik Hoskin provides us with a fresh insight. GH
The sky was a rainbow mosaic above the two combatants. It shimmered with the haze of oily pollutants as thick, black smoke belched from the numerous, anthill-like structures that dotted the barren landscape. They faced each other across the chasm between two of the pollution-spewing towers, their energy lances engaged, their force shields powered up. The fate of the very galaxy depended, Matt knew, on the outcome of this, their final battle. The greatest warriors of the two most powerful religions would clash for one last, decisive time, and finally Matt would learn which philosophy would govern forevermore: the White Path of morality, or the sinister Black Path, with its evil ways of destruction and oppression.
With a swelling of sound and fury, the skies broke with flashes of light, the deep rumbling of thunder shaking the witnesses to the depths of their stomachs. The two combatants leapt, inhumanly high, lances raised. And, in mid-air, ball lightning electrifying the atmosphere around them, they met.
And the screen went black and the spell was broken as the lights slowly came back up in the screening room of the Howard Studios ranch. Several members of the press who had been invited to this conference broke into a smattering of applause. At the front of the room, director Benjamin Howard offered an embarrassed smile.
Edition 9: Better Than Everything by Malon Edwards
The technology of the future can realize the dreams of today, but we have to be careful that we don’t mistake them for nightmares. In this story Malon Edwards paints a vivid future where a form of immortality has been achieved, but it comes at a terrible price in the face of one of humanity’s most fundamental emotions, love. GH
“So, I’ve been thinking,” I start, and then stop because this is the conversation we’ve been avoiding most of her life.
But Jae Lyn doesn’t miss a beat. “You keep doing that, and you’re going to break something.”
She smiles and that dimple at the left corner of her mouth on her chin peeks out at me. More than anything, I’ll miss kissing it.
No. I can’t think like that.
I take a carton of apple-cranberry juice out of the refrigerator, pour us both a glass, and proceed to wipe that smile right off her face.
“You can’t die.”
“Don’t.”
Edition 9: Notes From the Editor
For this addition, Sophie Yorkston, the Editor-in-Chief of SQ Mag, is on a well-deserved break, soaking in the many enjoyable things that Canada has to offer. I am the publisher of the zine, but for Edition 9 I have the privilege of filling in for her as well.
It’s been a great two months.
SQ Mag staff are still glowing with pride with our eighth issue, Special Edition: Women in Speculative Fiction. Our website was hit with unprecedented numbers and rates, so much so that we have officially ratcheted up our market status to ‘Token’. This means we are now a paying market—somewhat low on the ladder, but we are definitely climbing. We still can’t get over the quality of the material that we published in that edition, and we are certainly considering publishing a special edition on an annual basis—we are still in discussion, but it harbingers great possibilities.
Edition 10: Mr. Strawn and the Book by Morgen Knight
Mr. Strawn seeks out an imaginery friend, trapped in a brothel by a trick of an old friend. A sweet dieselpunk story with a lot of heart. SY
Mr. Strawn stepped off the sleek magnetic train and walked down the wooden boardwalk of the depot, boots clunking. He carried a canvas bag shaped around the thick book inside of it. It made him think of a snake that had misjudged its meal every time he picked it up. He tipped his large-brimmed hat at the ladies he passed, with a metal finger. His entire left hand was a replacement. The shine had worn off, but he didn’t mind. Shiny metal drew attention in the outposts. Attention invited questions. They weren’t questions he couldn’t answer, but he found that it was best to keep your own counsel.
He didn’t know if you called this place a town, but it was called Shiremire. Shiremire was the only place he could get to by train. All of the others were a costly two-day journey by airship. They would be more polished than Shiremire, but in Mr. Strawn’s experience, it was better to see the rough edges. And a place like this was bound to have a few. Only the most needy came this close to the factories.
Mr. Strawn entered the dim saloon from the main street. Horses were hitched to a post over a dirty, brown water trough out front. This small tank town wasn’t much more than the main street. The saloon was full of assembly-men and smelters of various position from the factories, an occasional sophisticate moving between cities that wants a glimpse of the raw life, and the special kind of people that places like this drew. Mr. Strawn carried a large pistol on his thigh. It was a tool of his job at the factories but he never took it off. The outposts could be even more dangerous than the factories or the camps. They were filled with hard men with money, anger, and boredom.
Edition 10: Drunks by Michael C Schutz-Ryan
Neil is the most beautiful man in the room, but his past pursues him. Rob ought to watch out for himself. A creepy tale about your past coming back to haunt you. SY
When I first met Neil, he was drinking Heineken at Jim’s party. Well dressed and very drunk gay men stood around a veritable garden of potted plants; they watched each other watching each other and tried to appear disinterested.
A small crowd of three or four gathered around Neil. I didn’t know him then, but wanted to, so I drifted over.
Neil’s eyes were glassy and bright and returned my (light-hearted) stare far more often than he peered into any others’ eyes. He had black hair twisted and tangled like one of those lucky trolls that were popular years before. Beer in hand, he leaned his lithe body forward, one knee on the cushions. He was ten years younger than anyone there.
He was telling a story; his voice surprised me—it was too gravelly to come out of that face. I’d come in late, and caught only the punchline: “So I took down the sign!” His laughter made the room smile.
Edition 10: Book Review: The Daedalus Code by Colin F Barnes
Reviewed by Damien Smith
I’ve not previously had the pleasure of reading anything by Colin F. Barnes before, but I came across him recently on the wonderful medium that is Twitter. A brief conversation later and I decided to take the plunge on an unknown author and take a look at The Daedalus Code—a cyberpunk novella set in an all-too-believable future. I’ve since found out Barnes has another novella, a novel (very soon to be two novels) and a bunch of short stories under his belt. Not to spoil this review before it starts, but more of his work has suddenly made it to my ‘To Read’ list.
Edition 10: That Blasts the Roots of Trees Is My Destroyer by David Halpert
Charlie is determined to breathe easy. He wants to create a new life for himself, away from the daily struggles. Information is always the key to power and everything has its price. A great piece of dystopian science fiction. SY
Charlie Glassman has $3.82 left in his tank. As a result he walks the streets with the same precision as a laser cutting a diamond. On quiet nights you can hear the distant echoes of large-scale industrial pumps all the way from Port Credit extracting oxygen from Lake Ontario, churning, grinding, set along the waterfront like the overgrown placentae of some botched laboratory experiment.
Tenement apartments hugging the Green Zone show their true colors in the sober light of day. Moss and climbing ferns hide the cracked foundations and graffiti courtesy of resident syndicates. Charlie’s disposable Sanyo reads yellow for this district, advising citizens to express caution when venturing out in broad daylight. Still he carries a small arsenal: his taser, his collapsible baton. He finds guns crude even in these disparate times and never ventures past curfew.
The sky is its own membrane, a hazy orange, veined with smoke. Charlie wipes a thin layer of grime off a pane of bulletproof Lucite. In the windowed glare of a William Sonoma he checks his mask is firmly clamped over his face for the third time since leaving his apartment, halting momentarily, but not before being threatened by the turbaned shop-owner, a sawed-off shotgun in his hands followed by a string of Hindi obscenities. The bastard even has the gall to step out his storefront before pressure equalizes. Charlie is suddenly blasted with a wall of cool air—try explaining that one to the Federal Reserve come tax time.
Edition 10: Book Review: Sygillis of Metatron by Ren Garcia
Reviewed by Mysti Parker
In looking for another steampunk variant to review for this edition, I had the timely fortune of sharing a table with a writing friend, Ren Garcia, at this year’s Fandom Fest in Louisville, KY. I had purchased this book at the 2012 event and hadn’t read it yet (shame on me). While he shared with me all about the League of Elder series, I knew I had to jump in, and I’m happy that I did.
Edition 10: Shoe Shine by Robert Datson
Sam keeps meaning to clean himself up and make a new start, but somewhere between the buff and the polish it all goes awry. There’s a wonderful subtlety in this supernatural short. SY
“Don’t criticize what you don’t understand, son. You never walked in that man’s shoes.”
—Elvis Presley, 1935 – 1977
The early sun glints off a silvered building. A cooling breeze soothes the streets, and Sam’s eyes flicker open. His body is warm and relaxed, oscillating between asleep and awake, and his mind is at peace with the day.
He turns his head to one side and sees his sleeping buddy tucked under thin grey blankets against the wall of the open verandah they had selected the night before.
Concrete lies under Sam’s thin sleeping bag and he keeps still, knowing the moment he moves, bones will push through the thin material and his comfort will disappear, bringing him firmly into contact with his current situation.
SQ Mag 
