When
asked to think of Danish authors, Hans Christian Andersen is probably the first
to come to mind, and then, possibly, Peter Høeg or Søren Kierkegaard.
Denmark, however, has a thriving modern science fiction community as
evidenced by the stories collected in Sky
City: New Science Fiction Stories by Danish Authors. The stories were all
published in Danish in 2007 and 2008, with this volume, apparently, being their
first English translation.
“Sky
City” is set in a super-high skyscraper in Tokyo where Romi has been sent to
find pottery made by a master potter. The strange setting of the building, which
is constantly being rebuilt by nanobots is more intriguing that Romi’s quest,
although Manfred Christiansen manages to tie Romi’s job to the skyscraper in a
satisfying and unexpected manner.
Niels
Gjerløff’s “Departure” is less a story than a vignette, lacking both plot
and conclusion as the author follows Irina and Peter as they prepare to leave
Earth for Europa. Adding to the slightness of the work is the iffy translation
of the story which should have been checked by someone other with a more firm
grasp of English.
“The
White Bear” offers a disturbing look at Russian gangsters living in China.
Although neither of Richard Ipsen’s characters, who kidnap girls from remote
villages in order to sell them as courtesans, are admirable, the “White
Bear” of the title does understand the code of ethics to their job and must
deal with the consequences when his partner breaks that code.
Glen
Stihmøe’s strangely titled “Helium Loves Company,” the Helium refers to
one of the characters, is a post apocalyptic world in which small groups must
try to survive on their own, constantly weary of strangers. The primary group has determined they must move on, nomad
style, in order to survive, leading them into conflict with other groups who
either fear their encroachment or see them as prey, until they find one of the
strangest collections of people on the decimated world.
“The
Last Astronaut” is an almost surreal story by Flemming R. P. Rasch which
incorporates many of the tropes of science fiction, notably robots and time
travel, but little of the underlying logic.
In
“The Organism on Maneo,” Morten Brunbjerg describes a group of students
excited by the recently discovered alien life form which has been quarantined.
Although they understand that as freshman, they won’t get to examine
it, their teacher’s connections allow them to study images of the creature and
make guesses about its nature. Eventually two of the students are able to learn
more in a story which warns, not about seeking knowledge, but rather about
seeking knowledge without the proper precautions.
Patrick
Leis offers a tale of an interrogation of a US Air Force Colonel in “The
Tourist” who was responsible for an attack on his own country.
Although the interrogation scenes don’t seem particularly realistic,
the main point of the story is the mystery behind the colonel’s actions, which
imply he is in collusion with a vast conspiracy. Leis does an excellent job
playing with the reader’s and interrogator’s expectations as he introduces
various science fictional possibilities.
Dan
Mygind reminds the reader that the news business is, in fact, a business in
“Know Your Target Audience.” Even
as information is uncovered on a decades old conspiracy, the information’s
effects are judged prior to any decision about making disclosure of the
information or what form such disclosure should take, offering an extremely
cynical view of the information which is allowed to be fed to consumers.
“The
Red Parakeets” is an indictment of society’s tendency to enforce conformity
on its members. Camilla Wandahl’s protagonist has avoided a fad for
genetically modified pets which spread to various other aspects of life, a
decision which eventually leads to her imprisonment. The satire is narrowly
focused and the premise doesn’t particularly hold up, at least to an American
audience where diversity may be more acceptable.
Kenneth
Krabat’s “The Short Arm of History” is reminiscent of Frederik Pohl’s Gateway.
A strange artifact has been discovered which can apparently send people to other
worlds. But while Pohl’s novel offered the knowledge that some seekers were
successful, Krabat’s story doesn’t offer that glimmer of hope and so makes
the reader question the lemming-like volunteers who keep trying out the machine
without being able to return data.
Søren
Elmerdahl Hemmingsen offers a look at the measures taken following a terrorist
attack in “A Contribution to the History of Denmark,” which shows the Danish
and American response, both militarily and popularly, to an attack of a giant
reptile. The attack and its
aftermath are the background to a budding romance between Mogens and Ingeborg.
Further complicating their relationship is Ingeborg’s espousal of
measures that Mogens isn’t entirely sure of, but is willing to overlook for
the sake of his infatuation.
“When
the Music’s Over” posits a strange alien invasion of Earth in which
spacecraft flood the world with representations of human music, television, and
art. A. Silvestri not only looks at
the human response, militarily, artistically, and scientifically, but also
explores what it means to be creative and what the cost of creativity can be.
“The
E-Puzzle” looks at Thomas Smith’s attempts to map personality traits in an
effort to perfect a means of recording people’s minds, memories, and
personalities, one of many recurring themes in this anthology. When his
drug-abusing son, Adam, is murdered, his need to perfect the process is made
more urgent. Nikolaj Højberg’s portrayal of Smith is as a cold, calculating
businessman who doesn’t trust the personality and personal relationships of
the people around him, even as he works to extract them.
Built
around a team investigating the death of an alien, Ellen Miriam Pedersen’s
“Leading, Feeding” seems more intent on exploring the personalities and
relationships of her characters than the alien that brought them together.
An unnecessary metafictional introduction to the characters breaks the
rhythm of the story early in the narrative and it never fully recovers.
Anonymity
and seclusion is established early in Camilla Fonss Bach Friis’s “You Are My
Best Friend” when she fails to give either character a name.
The two characters are apparently enjoying a quiet afternoon together,
talking and getting coffee. Nevertheless, there is a strange vibe given their apparent
closeness and, at the same time, a distance between the two.
Friis provides indications of a reason without spelling out the
situation.
Brian
P. Ørnbøl takes up the theme of isolation with “Dreams of Stone,” a
nihilistic story of a woman living in an apparently world-spanning, intensely
populated city, but does not have a connection to anyone. Dreaming of seeing a natural setting, when she decides to
leave the city, she does meet up with, but still fails to connect with, others
who can offer her scant help, demonstrating an astounding lack of knowledge
including geography despite the presence of GPS units in the world.
Eventually she elects to just drive south through the never-ending urban
environment in search of something she has never before experienced.
“The
Green Jacket” mirrors the conformity theme of “The Red Parakeets” in
Gudrun Østergaard’s story in which Ivara, a thirteen year old girl, rebels
against the need to stay in her own area and wear only the latest designated
fashions by hiding the titular article of clothing even after it became
“dated.” Ivara manages to escape from her elite ghetto and discover that
other people can live their own lives, but the dangers and uncertainty of such a
life scares her back to a more comfortable conformity.
“In
the Surface” offers a pessimistic view of the ecological future from Sara
Tanderup, in which fish are dealing with the results of climate change and
ecological disaster. It is a short
piece, but one filled with anxiety, as well as turning a blind eye to the
negatives if there are any positives that can be found in a situation,
ultimately resulting in a disturbing tale.
Perhaps
the strongest story in the book is the final one, Lars Ahn Pedersen’s “Interrogation
of Victim No. 5.” Opening as a police interrogator questions a woman who
apparently suffers from some form of amnesia, the interrogator is able to work
closely with her to remember an attack as she walked across a park.
The emotions and situations feel quite real, and the interrogation scene
reinforces the feeling that the similar scene in Patrick Leis’s story
doesn’t quite feel right. Pedersen’s
science fictional elements are chilling, showing how things can work out even
when they go dreadfully wrong and leaving the reader wondering about the
story’s aftermath even as the story feels complete in itself.
