Rejoice! It is a summer for dinosaurs! In July, Uncanny Magazine published Issue 23, a special shared-universe dinosaur issue! The stories revolve around abandoned islands, portals, dinosaurs, and the mysterious Owen Corporation. Yes, there’s a certain Jurassic Park-like flair to this prompt, and that’s totally fine by me. I especially enjoyed “Red Lizard Brigade” by Sam J. Miller, an enjoyable yet heart-breaking tale of betrayal, loyalty, love, and (of course) dinosaurs. And I’m absolutely enamored with K.M. Szpara’s “You Can Make a Dinosaur, but You Can’t Help Me,” a challenging but rewarding story about family and found family. And if that’s not enough dinosaurs for you, A. Merc Rustad is currently editing an anthology of original flash fiction stories about robot dinosaurs. I’d also be remiss not to mention that the folks behind Uncanny are currently Kickstarting Uncanny Magazine Year Five, so be sure to check that out as well.
“Red Lizard Brigade” by Sam J. Miller
During the early Cold War, the Soviets have developed gate technology—they can create wormholes across time and space, and one of the first things they’ve done is capture and train dinosaurs for battle. In this story, the narrator is a low-level Soviet military recruit who has a romance with Osip, a superior. The story opens after Osip has stolen a dinosaur and gate technology—presumably to defect to the Americans—and the narrator is ordered to hunt down Osip.
First, I loved this story’s setup and the worldbuilding. The Soviets are training dinosaurs for war. A soldier defects to the Americas. His lover is sent to stop him. Come on, if that doesn’t sound like fun, what does?
Second, this story is simply a well-crafted delight. Although the narrative is nonlinear, this doesn’t at all make for a confusing read the way nonlinear structures sometimes can. In fact, the story is perfectly ordered, hooking readers with a brilliant setup, pausing briefly to flesh out the worldbuilding and character relationships, and then bringing it all together for a heart-wrenching and darkly gorgeous climax.
Lastly, “Red Lizard Brigade” is an interesting examination of relationships, betrayal, loyalty, and love. There are a few relationships in play in this story, each of which can be analyzed in terms of love, loyalty, and betrayal. Osip is disgusted with how the Soviets betray and abuse the dinosaurs they have captured. Since he feels betrayed by his country, Osip chooses to defect, and thereby betrays his own lover in the process. Meanwhile, the narrator finds himself weighing his commitment to the Soviet Union on one hand and his commitment to Osip on the other. In presenting these fraught relationships, Miller raises tough questions about how we balance our loyalties and duties. When does our country deserve our loyalty? When does it not? How do we love someone who’s betrayed something that we’re still loyal to? At one point, Osip defends himself to his lover by saying that he’s only turning gate technology over to an American corporation, not the American government. But that differentiation isn’t at all meaningful to the narrator. This raises the question: what exactly constitutes treason? Does this make Osip’s betrayal any less terrible?
“Red Lizard Brigade” is fun, powerful, and it left me thinking about how darn hard it can be honor all of our (at times divergent) loyalties.
“You Can Make a Dinosaur, but You Can’t Help Me” by K.M. Szpara
Emerick Owen is a trans man whose dysphoria has been getting worse. When Emerick wants bottom surgery but can’t afford it, his boyfriend Leo suggests that he try reconnecting with his father, Collier Owen. Collier runs the Owen Corporation, a powerful, mysterious company that breeds, researches, and experiments upon dinosaurs. Reconnecting isn’t a terrible idea—Collier is loaded, and Emerick wants a relationship and is willing to reach out. The trouble is, Collier (a man who works with actual dinosaurs) cannot bring himself to understand, acknowledge, and accept Emerick’s transition and gender identity.
The story presents and powerfully juxtaposes several relationships. First, there’s Emerick’s relationship with Leo, which is beautiful, intimate, and supportive. Second, there’s Emerick’s relationship with his dad. Even though Emerick is willing to reach out, Collier persists in misgendering and deadnaming Emerick, and after Emerick tries to call Collier out, Collier just changes the subject. We’re also introduced to Noelle, a scientist who has an almost father/daughter relationship with Collier, much to Emerick’s agonizing bewilderment. And finally, a warm relationship develops between Emerick and Noelle as they learn more about each other. The story holds up and contrasts each of these relationships, creating a powerful commentary on communication, acceptance, intimacy, and love. Ultimately, I read this as a story about family and found family. It isn’t only about gender dysphoria and broken families, but also about the euphoria our loved ones can give us.
I especially loved Emerick and Leo’s relationship. I don’t think I’ve read a short story that portrays a romantic relationship (much less a trans romantic relationship) with this much honesty, complexity, love, and nuance. Just last week, I was talking with my partner about how hard it can be to find stories that portray characters navigating intimacy, consent, identity, feelings, problematic social norms, and oppressive social structures. This story does that, and it does so beautifully. Leo is the perfect liberal, both as an activist and partner, with lines like, “What matters is what we do after we’re corrected,” and “Can I suggest something? If you don’t like it, we can stop.” Leo is also a gay trans man who cares about presenting in ways that aren’t traditionally masculine. As Szpara writes:
Leo believes in himself. He has to, to leave the house wearing a skirt or heels, with his flat chest and facial hair. To hand his coat to the cis restaurant host, who isn’t sure whether to call him “sir” or “ma’am.” And you love him for that. […] He’s perfect and you’re a farce. He’s made peace with his body and you only tolerate yours. And you can’t believe you’re nervous to say this out loud, but you don’t want him to validate your body. You want him to remember what it’s like to need to change part of himself.
I was really struck by that passage, by Szpara’s portrayal of how Emerick is slightly put off and annoyed by Leo’s remarkable support and acceptance. It’s a dark emotion to depict, but it felt surprisingly real, moving, and honest.
This story is hard to read because of the story’s portrayal of Emerick’s dysphoria and because of Collier’s despicable treatment of his son, but it’s absolutely worth reading. It’s deeply moving, and it’s stunningly unique. I must say, K.M. Szpara is a damn good writer. I love his stories “Nothing is Pixels Here” and “Small Changes Over Long Periods of Time.” This story is my favorite yet, and I really look forward to reading what comes next.
