Take my breath away

Is it possible to subscribe to just the cover of a magazine? I just received my copy of Interzone 222 and, not for the first time, I was blown away by Adam Tredowski's cover art. Here's one of the 3D models used in the scene, together with the final cover.

Predictably, "Ugly" here is another of my favourites:

For more amazing pictures go to Tredowski's portfolio or blog. The Interzone website is here and you can read more about Interzone 222 here.

Multi-dimensional book series

The novels making up a trilogy or series don't have to follow each other serially. Steven Baxter's trilogy Time, Space, Origin and the short story collection Phase Space are connected unusually - each tells a stand-alone story, but the characters and plot elements recur. Baxter uses parallel universes, and sends each story literally in a different direction, following a different space-time axis. Time follows the protagonist into the distant future, in Space he undertakes a very different voyage to the limits of space, while in Origin he finds himself cast from parallel universe to universe. The Origin here is also a reference to Darwin's Origin of the Species, and this novel explores alternative evolutionary possibilities.

As in many of Baxter's novels, the author shows off his knowledge of the world's space programmes (each novel features a different, though equally plausible "Big Dumb" launch system) and of astronomy, physics and evolutionary biology. The science is so clearly described that these could easily replace secondary school textbooks. Space also features a good, if scary, answer to the Fermi Paradox.

Steampunk inspiration

I took these photos of steam-powered road vehicles at Chatham Dockyards during a recent historic transport event. It's good to know that when the electricity fails we'll still be able to flatten roads.

What's the attraction of steam power? These machines can be hypnotic to watch - literally given the number of spinning parts; they're noisy, dirty and dangerous and all of this draws and holds your attention. If you understand only a fraction of the underlying principles then it's clear that they have to be the shape they are - this is form completely following function. Yet the engineers still managed to embed flourishes and appealing shapes into the structure.

These are also machines that should have rusted, fallen apart or failed long ago - nowadays who expects even a car to last more than a few years? The fact that these engines are still running now is the reason I am in awe of both the original designers and the enthusiasts who restore and maintain them today.

The Machine

While time travel appeared in stories before H.G. Wells, it is Wells who introduced the idea of the Time Machine. By making time travel a mechanical process relying on the ideas of a scientist he brought the idea into the sci-fi genre he was busily making his own. Wells' story uses the time travel plot device in order to explore evolutionary theory - the upper and lower class trends of the day are extrapolated into the distant future in which humanity has diverged into two distinct species, the childlike Eloi and the more animal, although possibly more intelligent Morlocks. Wells didn't introduce any ideas about changing the future or time travel paradoxes - change was of course offered to Scrooge by Dickens while the paradoxes are a more recent time travel theme.

The classic 1960 film starred Rod Taylor and was directed by George Pal. More recently, Simon Wells, great grandson of H.G., directed a re-make with Guy Pearce and Samantha Mumba. This was disappointing in some ways but introduced a version of the time travel paradox - the traveller is only driven to complete his invention following the death of his girlfriend, and tries repeatedly to save her life - each time, she is killed in some other, quite different but equally unexpected way. Eventually he stops trying and instead sets off for the future, where he is finally given a sad explanation for the paradox.

There's also an official, Wells-estate-sanctioned sequel written by Stephen Baxter, The Time Ships. In this book time travel has consequences: the traveller has returned from the future and shared his experiences and this has changed the future. Baxter's story uses the time travel device to explore a range of imaginative scenarios including a First World War that has persisted for decades, and a future where the Morlocks developed very differently from Wells' description - all the while developing Wells' ideas about class and evolution.

Q: How can sci-fi directors portray the future?

A By shooting their films in the present. As real-life architecture slowly but inevitably approaches Ridley Scott's Blade Runner-vision, the opportunities for futuristic cinema increase - and sooner or later, CGI fans will be going to see period costume dramas rather than sci-fi.

At Sci-Fi London, the future meant Docklands or the Jubilee Line. In Michael Winterbottom's Code 46, the future means Shanghai's business district. The film is beautifully crafted in general, with intense use of light, colour and vibrant sound to invoke emotional atmosphere. It also features two superb actors - Tim Robbins and Samantha Morton. Morton's accent is a bit WTF here (perhaps this is a genuine dialect of the future) but this is irrelevant as she creates a complex tough-yet-vulnerable character that gets your attention without the aid of an empathy virus.

Empathy virus? Code 46 has some similarities to Andrew Niccol's Gattaca - it also deals with the increasingly restrictive use of genetic testing. The plot revolves around the love affair between Samantha Morton's character, a forger of biometric passports that help people fool the genetic tests, and Tim Robbins' married investigator sent in to find her. The empathy virus is his tool of the trade, allowing him to make quick deductions about his subjects based on seemingly irrelevant questions - a new twist on the hunch-following detective. Other behavioural viruses also turn up later in the plot.

The film falls down, a little, in two areas - the back story relies on the governments of the world passing universal laws to condemn reproduction between people who are too genetically close, and while the external cinematography gives a sense of the future, this is a facade - interiors of cars, trains, houses, cafes, offices, clubs are more or less unchanged. The illegal relationship between the two lovers is also complicated and unlikely, although it does introduce a potential complication of cloning that would make Sigmund Freud turn in his grave.

This is not a light entertainment movie, but I'd describe it as a romantic and intelligent drama.

Changing Allegiance

I recently made a difficult decision to change allegiance between 3D software packages. Up till now I've been teaching myself the basics with Maxon's Cinema 4D, and I also used this to produce the effects for Human Touch and Too Much Too Soon. I've now started teaching myself to use Blender.

Cinema 4D is a program I've always found intuitive and easy to learn and use. It's got a clear logical interface, a lot of useful and impressive built-in features, and whenever I've been stuck there have always been a number of extremely helpful online forums and communities to point me in the right direction. As I've tried more complex animations I've had to learn to use most of the features including the integral C-like programming language.

Blender is also well known for having a supportive online community, but its' interface is far from intuitive and it presumes a great deal of field knowledge - so why change?

Firstly, I've been using an outdated version of C4D but now want to try to produce some more advanced work, which means either upgrading or looking elsewhere.

Secondly, I have to acknowledge that cost is one issue. Most 3D packages are sold under a regular commercial software model, and even with the various upgrade offers, keeping up with the latest, most advanced versions and plug-ins isn't cheap for a non-professional user. Blender is different - it's an open source project on the Linux/GNU license model, so it's free to use. I should add that in my opinion C4D probably still represents good value to a commercial user.

Finally, I'm a little worried about becoming increasingly dependent on one software package over time - if I'm going to learn new systems then sooner is better than later.

Going through this change is making me think about the loyalty people have to computers or software - whether it's PCs and Macs, or more specific applications such as interactive fiction languages Inform and TADS, there are always users ready to defend their favourite package through reasoned debate (and the odd flamewar). I think this is only natural as, the more you use a particular program the more you are conditioned to its' idiosyncrasies and way of working, and switching to another program might actually be harder than if you were starting from scratch. With Blender it might be something as small as selecting with right-click instead of left, or larger jumps such as switching from COFFEE to Python. There's occasionally a near-religious feel to some of these debates though, and I wonder if, in future, mixed-OS couples will argue over whether to bring up their children in Windows or Linux.

Some first steps in Blender

I haven't quite abandoned C4D yet - I'm still working on two C4D-based projects.

Hell's Other Kitchen

The Nets of Space, a novella by Emil Petaja, was first published in 1969. My copy dates from 1972, and features an uncredited cover illustration of butchered astronauts in a Mercury-like capsule, and a United Kingdom RRP of 25p.

Donald Quick is recovering from a mental breakdown, following a freak hyperspace-fuel ingestion accident at the launch of an expedition to Alpha Centauri. The three spaceships have now vanished, but Donald, who remained on Earth due to an inner ear disorder, has become haunted by recurrent dreams of giant and hungry crustacean aliens. These are particularly nightmarish nightmares, such as the opening sequence where Donald finds himself in a finger-food bowl at an alien party waiting to be picked up, dipped in sauce and eaten alive.

The plot "twists" about half-way through, although this is not unexpected - psychiatrist Kelter's unconscious explanation of Donald's dreams is too elaborate and overconfident, and like Donald we never quite believe it. However it does introduce ideas of superiority and inferiority, and these themes are explored as the story brings together civilizations that differ in scale, intelligence and outlook.

Thanks to my sci-fi gene deficiency I was not deterred by the presence of characters such as Priestess Poogli (the Gordon Ramsey of the macroverse) or Kalnischeoraphibalistoibak. This enjoyable horror is also very much a tribute or open love-letter to Don Quixote de la Mancha, with whom Donald both idolises and identifies, although the dream encounters also bring to mind Gulliver's meetings with the Brobdingnagians and Lilliputians. In more than one way it is Don Quixote who saves the world.