This
Horror Writers Association anthology includes more sci-fi than
horror, and some New Age, suspense, splatter, and erotica.
Strieber's intro cites the "true story" of a man who denied his
brother's report of them being abducted by aliens, but then built
his home in the shape of a UFO, possibly from suppressed memories.
He suggests these stories might likewise contain a shadow of
truth...
* In Hollow Houses, by Gary A. Braunbeck.
The abused daughter of
a heroin fiend is a star child come to lead the Worthy (the lame
and the poor, the homeless and the meek) to inherit the
Earth. Leah's discovery of her alien abilities evokes Kris
Neville's "Bettyann." This novella blends grays, Christian metaphors,
men in black, and New Age mysticism (there's even a crippled Indian shaman). Not bad, but nothing new.
* Radiance, by Nina Kiriki Hoffman.
Sentient balls of light inhabit human corpses, ushering in a New
Age of human evolution and understanding, both between
interplanetary species and between two sisters. An old theme (Childhood's End) in the context
of sibling rivalry, analyzing how cosmic events affect an
ordinary woman. A slight tale, but well done.
* Jolene's Motel, by Esther M. Friesner.
Four women hold annual
meetings to recount their abduction experiences, each varying her
account according to her motivation for self-delusion. An initially fun story that slowly darkens to one about domestic woes
and marital violence. What could have ended on a subtle, ominous
note (upon our understanding of the situation) is dragged into
graphic Burning Bed terrain (which feels like a second story
grafted onto the first). Unpleasant, as the author intends.
* A Last, Longing Look, by James Robert Smith.
A vagrant, claiming to be an alien who inhabits people, informs a
waitress that in a previous (and handsome) body he was her lover.
Is this
tramp a prince whose bittersweet tale evokes
City Lights? Or is he a
self-delusional stalker? A surprise ending reveals a
third possibility.
* Even Saints and Angels, by John B. Rosenman.
After losing big in Vegas, a remorseful gambler is teleported to
an alien casino with better odds but higher stakes. A fun,
frivolous tale leavened with a cup of poignancy, a pinch of
darkness, and a final
message. Ingredients for an entrée‚ served in all the finer
casino hotels of The Twilight Zone.
* A Light in the Sky, by Christie Golden.
An unemployed redneck pines for abduction, expecting aliens to
rescue him from his fat wife and dreary job prospects. Golden's
story is marred by white trash clichés, brand name dropping, and some sloppiness
(referring to "Ray's bed" when she means Jimmy's), but it's also a
briskly entertaining read, with an ending that's more surprising
than not.
* Alien and Fugue, by Lois Tilton.
A primate ethologist is recruited by the military to interrogate
an alien, the lone survivor of a ship that attacked humans during
first contact. A sci-fi spy thriller featuring deftly drawn minor
characters, an
intriguing mystery, and chilling poignancy. Very satisfying.
* The Flicker Man, by Edward Bryant and Trey R. Barker.
A ghost, bent on killing her abusive father, is drawn into a black
void by a lonely transdimensional explorer (is he alien? spirit?
something else?). The dysfunctional family elements are drab,
clichéd, and burdened with flat dialogue. But the metaphysics
are intriguing and imaginative. Unfortunately, this story is
more Oprah than Art Bell.
* Guessing at the Unknown, by Cindie Geddes.
A single mother
from a broken family chronicles her eighteen years of dysfunctional
travails (from abandonment through teen pregnancy and
divorce) against the backdrop of society's changing response to some stupid aliens stranded on Earth. The mom's personal
confessional is masterfully interwoven with the aliens' public
saga,
one serving as foil for the other, until a brief conjunction of
narratives effects transformative results. One only guesses the
ending because events dovetail so logically. A moving tale, its
unsentimental narration preventing any schmaltz.
* Scripture Girl, by Edward Lee.
A cynical misanthrope picks up an oddball woman at a bar. Less a
story than a vignette with a "surprise" ending: the revelation of
the woman's true nature. And if you know this anthology's title,
you already know what that revelation is. The scripture-quoting
Ruth is an intriguing
enough character for us to wish there had been more, but there
isn't.
* The Threshold of Beyond, by Stephen Mark Rainey.
A clinical
recounting of a doomed airliner's close encounter. Story opens
after the crash, interweaving forensic findings with flashbacks
of the pilot's ordeal, so any suspense derives from awaiting the
details. But there aren't all that many; the encounter remains
an enigma. Rainey's description of aviation technology and the
Providence area lends verisimilitude, though some jargon is over
the layman's head.
* The Glassy Apes, by Tracy Knight.
A gray from Roswell is
sedated for fifty years, until a dying psychologist makes the
mistake of discontinuing the Thorazine. Knight juggles many
elements, less than perfectly. Opening with a potential autumn romance, then shifting to thriller, to splatterfest,
to... Her
pieces are forced together by whopper coincidences and ludicrous
contrivances (the medical staff buys the army explanation that
the gray is actually a severely retarded human suffering from
hydrocephalus). Some strong scenes, but this busy tale feels
incomplete and artificial.
* Nothing as It Seems, by David B. Silva.
Kingston Mills residents randomly, literally, disappear before shocked townsfolk.
Nobody knows how or why, or where they go. Silva's novella opens
ominously, then the mystery deepens, the tension increases, the
surprises mount. His efficient prose moves events quickly and
maintains our interest. Only caveat is the (unnecessary) spoiler
first paragraph. Eerie, spooky, original.
* Fuel, by Adam-Troy Castro.
A suicide's soul is sucked into
the fuel tank of a transdimensional spacecraft that runs on
"despair." Amongst these despairing souls is Man's ancient
enemy, the prototype for Satan. Castro interweaves several
storylines, some strong insights on despair and hate, and myriad
aliens, some so incomprehensible he describes them as incomprehensible. Yet his cosmic mini-epic come to a piddly conclusion.
Not ironic or funny, as perhaps intended, just sophomoric and
unoriginal.
* Jerusalem Syndrome, by Janet Berliner.
A secular scientist visits the Holy Land and returns thinking he's
a prophet for the coming "alien Messiah." Tabloids, hucksters and
tourists converge, giving him his fifteen minutes. A slight tale with
an old
theme (Wanting To Believe). Entertaining but forgettable.
* The End of the Dream Time, by Catherine Mintz.
A elder from
an oral tradition recounts his village's close encounter. Time
and place are revealed unobtrusively, through nicely spaced clues
within his narrative. Nothing new to Weird Science fans, and
the ending is less ominous than intended. But the first person
voice is well handled, and the story is intriguing, spooky, and
highly enjoyable.
* Realizations, by Don D'Ammassa.
A linguist is recruited by the feds to interrogate the alien
survivor of a crashed space ship, one who alters reality by
"realizing its potential." Although the term "quantum" is never
broached, the events are so
reminiscent of Quarantine that reading Egan's novel helped me
make sense of D'Ammassa's story. Otherwise, the alien's mode of
escape might have confused me.
* A Rustle of Owls' Wings, by Thomas Smith.
One man's impressionistic recounting of his abduction by "owls"
with big black eyes, and his attempt to interpret its portent. Was
it real or
all in his head? Spooky and atmospheric.
* Fireflies, by P.D. Cacek.
A tiny glowing alien momentarily
reanimates the legs of a crippled girl, prompting her to catch and
keep it. Despite the Spielbergian setup, Cacek admirably chooses
an unexpected ending. Tense, imaginative, and bittersweet.
* A World Hushed by Snow, by Juleen Brantingham.
An adult recounts his childhood snow frolic with an alien kid. Did
it happen? Or was he an imaginative child influenced by his
dysfunctional and flaky parents? An impressionistic reminiscence
that reads as a simple vignette, but yields more with thought.
Good
imagery.
* After Welles, by Michael Scott Bricker.
A sequel to Welle's War of the Worlds. In 1940, while the US military combs Martian
debris for a technological edge against Hitler or a second
Martian attack, whichever comes first, an interracial New Jersey
couple fall in love. Risky, since the Purity Movement suspects
Negroes of having Martian blood. Tense, gripping, and highly
imaginative alternate history.
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