In a post-apocalyptic world, New Orleans was spared from nuclear destruction by the sudden appearance of a mysterious dome over the city. Under the safety of the dome, the city’s vampires and zombies have come out from hiding while the general populace is divided into castes. Tired of the world’s woes, many people volunteer to become mindless workers, Drones, who are programmed by the Techs to do most of the menial and security work. Ruling this tiny world are the Peers, who live in a blissful world of technological augmentations. When Bink, one of the Techs, wants to leave New Orleans, how far is he willing to go?
The story’s mix of fantasy and science fiction elements didn’t work at all for me. For most of the story the vampires and zombies are nothing more than window dressing until they become a cheap cop-out at the end. It’s disappointing that in a story with such a strong social commentary as this one, it’s the mainly the fantastical elements and not the caste system itself which plunge everything into chaos.
This is an unfortunate blemish as the rest of the story is excellent. There are some cool science fiction ideas and a truly interesting moral dilemma but what I admired most was the depiction of Bink’s messed up relationships with his on-and-off girlfriend and the city and the many parallels between them.
(Lone Star Stories, June 2008)
Annamarie’s family runs an orange grove that’s becoming less and less profitable as the ground becomes more and more barren. Passing the blame back and forth, her parents are continually fighting. But when their immigrant workers start disapearing, Annemarie’s about to find out that there are darker things going on than just matrimonial strife.
Though the missing workers seem more like a confusing red herring than anything else, this is still a wonderful story with a very convincing child protagonist. When marriages break down, a child’s first response is often to blame herself as Hoffman illustrates with painful precision and empathy. Add to this an old sacraficial myth and you get a story that’s both sad and hopeful, with an ending that’ll stay with you for a long time.
(Lone Star Stories, June 2008)
Maggie’s brother dies on the operating table while the doctors are transferring one of his kidneys to her. She vows to do something worthwile with her life to make up for his sacrifice. But what can she do when Death itself is literally her constant companion?
While I didn’t care much for the story itself with its clichéd ending, the portrayal of Maggie’s (imaginary?) friend, Death, was wonderful. Kaftan avoids the common pitfalls of portraying Death as either too gloomful or whimsical. Instead we get a character that is both funny and deeply disturbing.
(Lone Star Stories, June 2008)
