More Deceptive Visions

Introduction

ISN’T IT INTERESTING how a person sometimes seems able to pick up a book and establish a psychic-emotional connection with the story they are choosing? The sort of connection which inspires one to pause and consider the possibility that perhaps there’s some literary predestination; as if God or the universe or some power greater than ourselves actually specifically intended for us to be reading that story. Having the opportunity for a red-carpet preview of Daniel McMillan’s stories was an example of this sense of interrelatedness and foreordination. 

In addition to reaffirming my analogous sense of karma, reading each one of Dan’s stories has touched upon some relatable augury in my personal and professional life. Until the past few weeks, I felt as though life experiences and my responsibilities were consuming more of my personal resources than I had energy or time to balance. I had always wanted to invest more of my energy into literary involvement, yet I’d always seemed to find a number of excuses to postpone it. Thanks to Dan’s invitation for my editorial contribution, and thanks also to our current socio-economic circumstances, I have been granted an opportunity to reserve a bit of personal energy, end my excuses, avoid further postponement, and devote a fulfilling interval of my time to nurturing my literary passion. Each one of Daniel’s stories herein has favourably captivated my attention; as well, they have delighted my appetite for Sci-Fi/Fantasy adventure, and each has done so in distinctly different ways. 

The crafty time traveller in Un-Convention appears to be faced with a potentially huge loss, and a moral dilemma or two, before he definitively acts. I guess that’s the way it goes. So often we try to separate or morally juggle things, like separating our personal and professional lives, for example, but this story offers us a lesson that, despite our detached efforts, sometimes separation is an unrealistic or unobtainable ideal. Just when Un-Convention’s protagonist begins to seem like he might be predictable, and just when it appears as though the time traveller successfully separates his personal feelings from his professional, McMillan tosses us an unexpected curve ball, proving that ‘time travel’ and ‘predictability’ can sometimes be mutually exclusive. 

Daniel McMillan’s second story, The Return, begins to hint at the possibility that perhaps there’s another being or some alternate existence ‘out there,’ in some other space or time. However, as his story continues, the author gradually reveals that whatever’s out there might be a much more unimaginable outcome than we were initially led to expect. Alas, sometimes it’s perfectly okay to assume an egocentric worldview, discounting otherworldly anomalies in favour of leading an average, ordinary life... unless, that is... unless you’re an insanely heartbroken scientist whose future innovation depends upon remaining caught in an interpersonal-professional love triangle!

Similar to The Return, Habitat has a ‘Garden of Eden-esque’ feel to it, and although it’s a well-written account of a spaceship catastrophe, you’ll have to read it for yourself to determine whether the story takes an extraterrestrial, divine, psychological, or psychiatric twist. Habitat had an absolute  ‘Heeeeeere's Johnny!’ moment or two, but it was the colloquialisms and witty blue-collar humour contrasted with a futuristic, other-dimensional perspective which truly kept me entertained throughout.

In a July 17, 2017 interview, Daniel McMillan described himself as an author who, from the early age of 11, had devoted a large portion of his personal time to exploring sometimes contradictory, more often complementary, topics such as physics and religion. At that time, he also shared his belief that, "for everything you read, read something else that directly contradicts it...." More Deceptive Visions is a compiled demonstration of this direct contradiction. His stories offer readers the challenge of contradictory perspectives which embolden McMillan’s personal assertions and his philosophy. Moreover, More Deceptive Visions is a fictional anthology of the author’s personal scientific and theological investments that becomes reflected and reaffirmed in a most light-hearted, enjoyable literary medium. The stories herein are a call for Sci-Fi readers to boldly forge ahead, and to make Science Fiction an amusing spiritual exploration, so—welcome to the anthology and enjoy your journey!

LISA ABBASI

April 9, 2020

Un-Convention

SPACE, IT HAS BEEN alleged, is the final frontier. That evaluation was close, but not entirely correct so far as Theodore Riggs was concerned.

Though it was Ted’s sixth time attending the Time Traveller’s Convention, the people he encountered there never ceased to amaze him. The attendees were as diverse a group as ever had been assembled, with the exception of that one thing that drew them all together in the same place at the same time.

The Convention was held on August 7, 1945, in Hiroshima, Japan—the day after the atomic bomb was dropped. No one would ever find the time travellers there. It was the perfect time and place to hide, right in plain sight.

Being the builder, operator, and owner of a fully functioning time machine, Ted could drop in on the Convention at any time he wanted. He chose to attend once a year to meet with his time-abandoning friends and colleagues to discuss wonderful timescapes to visit or ways their equipment could be augmented for better use. A lot of the appeal came from simply having an opportunity to catch up with peers who understood a part of his life that no one else was even aware of. It had become an annual tradition, one he had not missed since his first forays into the Chronosphere.

Because time and space are so closely related, and bending one means that the other also allows for flexibility, a Chrononaut could set the controls of a time vehicle to put it in a specific location at a certain time and arrive anywhere and anywhen they desired. It was all very convenient really.

The Time Benders’ Convention Center was brought to its place in Hiroshima by Ilya Markov, a Chrononaut from the year 2624. It was truly a thing of beauty, and it was both the quintessential meeting place for fellow time travellers and a shrine to time travel itself.

The TBCC was placed in Hiroshima’s Prefectural Industrial Promotional Hall, later known as the Genbaku Dome, which had remained intact after the bombing of its home city despite being only 150 meters from ground zero. It was sure to endure forever as the gathering place for travellers from any and all points in time.

The center was a wondrous marvel of engineering. It was a multi-dimensional space that was significantly larger—infinite, some said—on the inside than it was on the exterior, housing time travellers from across the millennia, simultaneously, in a relatively small space. The concept and execution were flawless, and Chrononaut Markov was revered throughout time as a brilliant and utterly masterful artist who had provided the greatest service to the time travelling community that had ever been conceived.

Tickets to the venue were not easy to come by. They had to be given to a new traveller by another Chrononaut, and most people who were using their ChronoCrafts for