My favorite stories from January all wrestled with tough ethical questions. “A Saint Between The Teeth” by Sloane Leong (published in Lightspeed Magazine Issue 164) is a deeply weird and alien story about the ethics of carnivores. “Nothing of Value” by Aimee Ogden (published in Clarkesworld Magazine Issue 208) features lethal teleportation machines that force readers to examine how exactly they value life, and “A Cure for Solastalgia” by E.M. Linden (published in Strange Horizons) explores activism and responsibility in the face of climate change.
“A Saint Between The Teeth” by Sloane Leong
“A Saint Between The Teeth” is one of those rare, wonderful stories that doesn’t feature humans anywhere at all. Instead, it is centered on two alien species: the ulmun and the telph. The ulmun are amphibious, typically live underground or in caves, and are carnivorous. The ulmun eat the telph, among other things, but the telph are especially nutritious and indeed vital for the ulmun. The trouble for Kharatet (an ulmun) is that the telph are sentient, intelligent beings.
Kharatet is a scholar suspicious of this whole business of eating the telph, willing to starve himself for his principles. Kharatet is kind, sensitive, and learned. Readers (especially us vegetarians) are likely to gravitate toward Kharatet. I certainly did. However, what makes this story so brilliantly, joyously weird isn’t Kharatet but rather Anul, a telph monk who genuinely wants to be eaten, viewing it as an honor he is due. Although Kharatet is armed with convincing academic reasons why eating telphs is wrong, Anul complicates this story, undermining Kharatet’s assumptions and arguments with good arguments of his own. For example, when Kharatet insists that he doesn’t want to end a life just so that his can continue temporarily, Anul responds:
But I am going to die. Quite soon, actually. I’m one of the eldest monks in our order. And by rights, I’ve the luxury of choosing how. Not a choice we telph often get.
“A Saint Between The Teeth” made me think of the ethics of us humans eating animals, but it resists clean analogies. While this story does offer fodder for reflection and discussion on our human lives, it does not map neatly onto our world and it isn’t didactic. Instead, it is a clever investigation into the ethics of eating other creatures. It is delightfully weird and alien, and it is likely to surprise you and leave you thinking.
“Nothing of Value” by Aimee Ogden
When I think about teleportation technology, I have always wondered: what if instead of actually teleporting you, the teleportation machine made a clone of you at the destination and destroyed the original? How would society react, and might you still use it? I am excited to say “Nothing of Value” is that story, well told. (Or one such story at least.)
The Skip system is what people call it, and the case for using it is compelling: the story takes place at a time when humans have colonized the solar system, so the Skip system can transport you between planets in a matter of hours, travelling at the speed of light rather than that of mere matter. Imagine living on a dome city or underground on a planet without a breathable atmosphere, and being able to teleport to Earth and back in an afternoon. Even if you know the teleportation process will kill you, you might still consider it. How much would you be willing to pay to lie down at a park under the blue sky, and how easily would you be able to resist the economic pressures to cheaply and quickly travel between various opportunities? The story made me wonder what do I value more: the quality of my life or the sanctity of it?
In the story, students who attend university become indentured, highlighting and exaggerating the economic pressures that might convince people to use the Skip system even if they are not fully comfortable with it. Without the Skip system, it would be impossible or impractical to take advantage of higher-paying opportunities, opportunities that could allow you to end your indenture significantly sooner than otherwise.
“Nothing of Value” explores one specific technology, but it is deeply centered on two characters and their relationship. Nine years have passed since the narrator graduated university and left Mars, and now they have returned to check in on someone who was important to them back during university. The two of them have drifted apart though, their views on the Skip system one of many divergences. We witness how their views on the Skip system have shaped their use of it, and how their use of the Skip system has shaped their characters in different ways. It’s a thoughtful, poignant, and melancholy examination of how our values and our technology can shape each other — and the course of our lives.
“A Cure for Solastalgia” by E.M. Linden
I love the opening of this story:
When I leave home at seventeen, my mother tells me three things. Not to care too much. To keep my gift a secret. And to get used to being alone.
“You’ll see what it’s like,” she says. “Out there in the real world.”
None of this is good advice.
This opening works well because it is simple and clear and because it has a nice kick in that third line. But beyond that, it tells you what the story is about. “A Cure for Solastalgia” is about caring too much, finding allies, and using your gifts to change the world.
The narrator’s parents run a landscaping business, using their magic to create manicured gardens for resorts, essentially paving over the nature indigenous to the site. The narrator can magically roll back time in a given place, but since that isn’t useful or productive in their eyes, their parents don’t view the narrator’s gift as remarkable or helpful.
After leaving home, the narrator becomes a volunteer/activist helping animals impacted by climate change and advocating for the environment. It turns out, “in the real world” there are many others who care too much, some of whom have magical gifts like the narrator. The narrator meets others who help them reconceptualize their gift as a powerful and important tool for restoration in the face of drastic and dangerous climate change.
The story is realistic and measured; it acknowledges that even magic can’t solve everything, but it nonetheless celebrates contributing however you can, working in community and in synchrony with others, and simply loving nature. It looks at our toxic heritages and asks how we are called to respond both as a collective and as individuals.
Also, E.M. Linden has written some terrific, succulent prose to describe the various flavors of magic. For example:
I don’t let go until the night around me is hot and damp and dark, rich with the tang of salt and the beat of insects and the shadows of mangrove trees. Mist, not light pollution, blurs the stars. Eels seethe around me and a crab scuttles over my foot.
If climate change keeps you up at night or brings you a special sadness, or if being in nature makes you come alive in a unique way, this is a story for you.
