Radiation, Polyamory, and Adventure: Katharine Eliska Kimbriel's "Nuala" Series

The mid-1980s were a time of change and exploration for women science fiction writers. Marketing departments kept trying to shoehorn these new voices into established molds, and the writers kept introducing new concerns, new ways of looking at story, world-building, relationships, and characters. One of these writers was Katharine Eliska Kimbriel, creator of the "Nuala" series.

Fire Sanctuary, the first published "Nuala" book, immediately drew me into a richly complex story. Despite the external military/political threat (the planet lies between two warring empires and gets caught in the cross-fire, imperiling the already fragile colony), this story transcended the action-adventures of its time. Kimbriel set up a colony of scientists, abandoned on a marginally habitable but gorgeous planet; one of the first things they did was to declare Nuala a political sanctuary. High natural radiation led to widespread impairment of fertility, so rather than imprisoning those fertile individuals (as in The Handmaid's Tale), Kimbriel gives us stable multiple-partner marriages and loving relationships, with the exception of the ruling family, who must go off-planet to seek the mates with whom to produce healthy children. The openness of communication about sexual and emotional relationships set the Nuala universe apart. Kimbriel portrays the relationships and principles with sensitivity and intelligence, rather than the glorification of "free love" so prevalent in male-oriented science fiction of that time.

Jaydium, Chapter 13

JAYDIUM

by Deborah J. Ross, writing as Deborah Wheeler

Chapter 13

 

Kithri stood at the entrance to the dome and scanned the surrounding brush for any signs of discovery. Behind her, Brianna alternated between cursing under her breath and choking back sobs as she and Lennart sorted through the wreckage. Kithri kept her eyes away from the interior of the laboratory. The waste--the vicious, wanton waste--was more than she could bear. The central room, once filled with marvels of technology, was little better than a junkyard. Some equipment had been carried off, but what had not had been systematically rendered useless. Splintered glass and twisted metal housings lay everywhere, mingled with record books in sodden reagent-soaked lumps. Acids still smoked from the rubble that had been the main computer.

Kithri could understand disabling the communications gear, but to deliberately destroy scientific instruments... She remembered when her father would have given all he had for such treasure, now smashed past any hope of salvage.

The pirates hadn't overlooked much of value, although Brianna's sonic tuner was still functional and Lennart had found some short lengths of monofilament rope. The emergency medical kit was gone, along with the water purification supplies and the best of the survival clothing. They'd also taken the tangle, Brianna's only effective weapon, and irreparably disabled her surface transport. There was no way Brianna could have gone searching for Kithri across the forest-covered Plain.

Kithri's fingers ached from gripping the handle of her stungun. The camp and the surrounding bushes still looked peaceful, but it was only a matter of time before the escape was discovered, and every passing moment increased the chances of their being tracked here. She took a deep breath, hoping she wouldn't jump out of her skin at the first sign of trouble.

Lennart emerged from the laboratory and finished packing the rope lengths, along with some clothes and empty water containers. Brianna rummaged in a disorderly heap of papers.

"What are you bothering with those for?" Kithri scowled. "I said to take only what we need--"

"Ah!" Brianna slid a thin sheaf into her pack along with the other gear. "My field maps!"

Kithri held her breath practically the whole distance to the city. As they darted from one clump of brush to the next, she felt entirely too exposed. She wanted solid walls around her while they planned their strategy.

Too damned much time spent down jaydium tunnels. It's better to see the enemy coming.

ROUND TABLE: Animals in Fantasy (Part I)

Pegasus by Odilon Redon

Here we are, back with another Amazing Traveling Round Table, and what a great topic! Animals and fantasy just seem to go together for many of us, whether we love fantastical creatures or wish we could talk to our beloved pets, whether we dream of worlds only horses (or dragons) can take us to or the places we dare not venture without our trusty animal companions.

To get the ball rolling on this topic, I'd like to point out some general aspects of the use of animals in fantasy. The first is simply their presence. Many fantasy tales take place in low-technology worlds (with the recent exception of urban and other contemporary fantasy subgenres). This generally means that animals will fulfill the same functions as they have historically been used for, such as transportation (horses, mules, donkeys, oxen, reindeer...), food, clothing (cattle, sheep, goats, rabbits, pigs...), hunting/protection (dogs, cheetahs), and so forth. The exceptions (exotic animals or using an animal for an unusual purpose) can be lots of fun, but it's important to do the research and understand the proper handling and temperaments of whatever species is being portrayed. The ridiculously romanticized and unrealistic portrayals of horses in fantasy are notable, and what's sad is that there is a wealth of accurate information available, such as Judith Tarr's excellent Writing Horses .

A second role for animals in fantasy involves changing the nature of existing species, such as making them telepathic or giving them magical abilities. I suspect that much of the allure of these animals is our own desire to communicate, but in our own terms. If a dolphin or a dog or an eagle speaks to us mind-to-mind, it is in human thoughts, from a primate perspective. Once we step outside the paradigm of projecting our own thought patterns and emotional responses on to another creature, however, we open the door to true encounters with the "other," which may not only be our equal but our superior, beings who can teach and inspire instead of be tools that obey us. Is there anything more magical than seeing the world through the eyes of someone -- no less a person -- with radically different senses, desires, thought processes, and knowledge?

A third, and perhaps the most challenging, way animals appear is as fantastical beings in themselves - dragons, phoenixes, unicorns, and the like. Every culture has such beings, so there is a wealth of material from which to draw. They can resemble ordinary animals (the kelpie appearing as a black horse, often to the peril of anyone who accepts a ride) or be chimeras, combinations of different animals, or be ordinary animals modified in some way (winged cats). Or they may be essentially different from animals we know, transcending the limitations of terrestrial biology.

A fourth category, perhaps a subset of the third, involves human/animal combinations -- hybrids, if you like. Certainly werewolves (and were-other-animals) fall into this category, as do centaurs and mermaids. One might argue that vampires do, as well. Whether they are essentially humans with the added physical (and magical) attributes of animals, or have a very different consciousness, culture, and personal goals, they offer a chance to explore what it is to be human, to be a person, to be kin to both people and animals. And that sort of exploration is, after all, one of the most profound gifts fantasy has to offer.





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Theresa Crater: Getting inside the perspective of an animal is one of the pleasures of fantasy. Kate Forsyth’s dragons, horses and the witches who talk to them have always stuck with me. Kate Forsyth is an Australian fantasy writer of two well-known series, The Witches of Eileanan and Rhiannon’s Ride. Kate’s dragons are the most noble of all I’ve read—and they’re damned scary. When people come into their presence, they realize quite quickly how puny humans are. Their bowels always threaten to turn to liquid and their brains are beat upon by intelligence vaster and more powerful than they can comprehend.

One variety of psychics talks to animals, and there is one who is at pains to argue for animal rights. This young woman represents animals in human councils. One horse in her book reminds me of Malcolm X. He is proud and refuses to allow himself to be ridden. He sees horses are somewhat superior to humans, who have treated his kind like brutes. But when the fate of the world and his new human friend rests on him alone, he decides to allow one person on his back—without a saddle or bridle of course. If the human cannot trust him, she cannot ride. She accepts his terms and the day is won.

Jaydium, Chapter 12

JAYDIUM

by Deborah J. Ross, writing as Deborah Wheeler

Chapter 12

 

Three days after she=d left Brianna=s camp, Kithri sat alone on a hillside at the western border of the forest, watching color slowly saturate the sky. Without dust to burnish it to eye-searing gold, the dawn glowed with a gentle, lingering light. Below her, the bushes covering the scrubjet looked soft, like brushed velvet.

She could not stay hidden long, she knew. Brianna would have metal detection scanners and any search would pick up the scrubjet. But first they=d have to know what area to fly over and she was a long way from the Manitous. She had time before they came after her...if they did. Time to think, time to decide. Time, but not much food or water.

Kithri jerked her hand away from her mouth before she could chew off another fingernail. It=s time to make up your mind. Do you want to be on your own again, maybe forever alone, or are you going back to deal with Eril?

No, the problem wasn=t Eril, although thinking about him sometimes left her feeling she=d gotten caught in a coriolis storm. He hadn=t dumped her on Stayman to rot. In fact, he=d offered her a decent way out and she=d been too ratshit scared to take it. What did she expect, that he wouldn=t be thrilled by the discoveries they=d made?

The problem isn=t Eril, Kithri repeated to herself. It=s me. Here I am with the same wonders in front of me, but all I can see is dust.

She brushed away a tear with the back of one hand, remembering the first joyous shock of the flower field and how quickly its sweetness had gone rancid. It had been easy to cry these last few days, without anyone to judge her weakness. Her eyelids burned as if they=d been scoured raw.

Albion is dead. I can never go back, and I=ve let that poison everything I touch.

oOo

She set the scrubjet down near the site of their original camp beneath a clump of umbrella trees that crowded between the crystalline city and the spaceport. The city looked exactly as she=d left it, but the vast cream-colored field was no longer vacant.

Thursday comes before Friday...Friday means Jaydium!

Thanks to everyone for being patient with my paucity of posts here, although I hope you've been enjoying the unfolding adventure of Jaydium. The next chapter goes up tomorrow, but here's a teaser:

She stepped into the room, moving silently toward the bunk. Just as she cleared the party-opened door, she caught a flash of movement from the side. She couldn=t see it clearly, only an instant of looming shadow before the man-shaped figure burst from the corner and lunged at her. Without thinking, she whirled and brought her stungun up. A booted foot lashed out and collided with her forearm. It was a glancing blow, jerked short, enough to break her aim but not make her loosen her grip entirely. Her arm muscles went numb; she grabbed the stungun with the other hand--

Before she could fire, her assailant fell heavily to the floor beside a bunk that had been concealed by the door. If she=d opened it all the way, she would have seen him plainly. "Kithri?" The voice was slurred but recognizable.

Lennart!

He grinned crookedly up at her and said in a harsh whisper, "You are a welcome sight!"

The next instant, she=d tucked the stungun through her belt and was kneeling at Lennart=s side. A trickle of dried blood ran from his hairline down one cheek. Like Brianna, he was chained to the wall, so that another inch would have moved Kithri entirely out of his range. A quick glance around the room revealed no other hidden prisoners.

"What the hell is going on?" Kithri said in a low voice. "Where=s Eril?"

"Damned pirates took him back to the city."

"Pirates," Kithri muttered as she inspected his wrist cuffs. She didn=t recognize the mechanism, nor could she identify any mechanical hinge closure. "They found my jaydium--I saw."

"They must have been monitoring Brianna=s transmission," Lennart said. "They knew we had a cache, and that there=s a source somewhere in this planet."