Books Front Lines and Frontiers A Quirky Mix of Tales: Galactic Empires, Volume One, Edited by Brian Aldiss An interesting mix of stories and authors — how many of these have you read? By Alan Brown | Published on May 12, 2026 Comment 0 Share New Share In this bi-weekly series reviewing classic science fiction and fantasy books, Alan Brown looks at the front lines and frontiers of the field; books about soldiers and spacers, scientists and engineers, explorers and adventurers. Stories full of what Shakespeare used to refer to as “alarums and excursions”: battles, chases, clashes, and the stuff of excitement. Today, I’m looking at a themed anthology, Galactic Empires: Volume One, edited by Brian Aldiss and published by St. Martin’s Press in 1976. I recently reviewed a collection of stories by H. Beam Piper, an author noted for his tales of the rise and fall of nations, republics, and empires, and with empires still on my mind, had run across this book in my basement. I’d picked it up used at some point, but have no idea where or when it came into my possession, and it had lurked in my “to be read” pile for many years. It’s adorned with a painting that tilts more toward fantasy than outer space empires, showing a cadre of armored warriors, with their leader adorned with a red cloak, his hand resting on an enormous two-handed sword. Beside him is an unarmored, nearly naked, woman also holding a large sword. The dust jacket credits the painting to Karel Thole, who is touted as “the world’s foremost cover artist of science fiction,” but is someone I can’t say I’ve ever heard of. The book might have sat for so long because, even though I am a big fan of stories about galactic empires, I was not too familiar with Brian Aldiss’ work, having only read a few of his shorter stories, and associated him with the British New Wave movement, a subset of science fiction that never impressed me much. As it turns out, this anthology was not what I expected, as it didn’t stick closely to the galactic empire theme promised by the title. But it is an entertaining and diverse collection of tales, and offers a good cross section of science fiction from the 1950s through the mid-1970s from a variety of magazines of the time. The stories, like so many of their time, are largely male-oriented, with women largely in supporting roles. And you can see that by the middle of the 20th century, and especially after World War II, the pro-imperial attitudes of the 19th century were waning. While I had always associated Aldiss with science fiction of a more serious sort, he shows with this anthology that he is not averse to having a little fun as well. About the Editor Brian Aldiss (1925-2017) was a noted British author of science fiction and fantasy, as well as an editor, critic, and artist. Aldiss served in the British Army in southern Asia during World War II. He became a bookseller after the war, but began writing in his spare time, and was successful enough to become a full-time writer. He was prolific, producing dozens of novels, over three hundred short stories, and extensive critical writings. Aldiss was a leading exemplar of what became known as the “New Wave,” an approach to science fiction distinguished by its artistic ambitions and its emphasis on the soft rather than hard sciences. He is best known for his Helliconia trilogy, set on an intricately crafted world with two suns, a planet with extremely long seasons. Aldiss received two Hugo Awards and one Nebula during his career. In 1999, he was selected by SFWA for its Grand Master Award, and in 2004 he became a member of the Science Fiction Hall of Fame. Galactic Empires: Volume One [Note: I can’t give the background of every author featured in this anthology, but for those who might want more biographical information, where I have discussed an author in this column before, I have tagged their name with a link to the latest of those reviews.] I was in the mood for fiction when I started the book, so I skipped over Aldiss’ introduction and framing material and jumped right into the first story, “Been a Long Time,” by R.A. Lafferty. One of my younger brothers, Bruce, is a huge fan of Lafferty, and owns nearly everything, if not everything, the man ever wrote. While I myself sometimes find Lafferty’s work amusing, I always find it baffling, and this story is no exception. It is the tale of an angel assigned to oversee an effort to determine how long it would take a group of monkeys equipped with typewriters to reproduce the works of William Shakespeare (spoiler alert: a pretty long time). And I was left wondering what this had to do with empires. The next story, “The Possessed,” by Arthur C. Clarke, is another tale that takes place over a long time. An alien swarm is meddling with the destiny of races on planets throughout the galaxy. Clarke lets you think that the race the story focuses on is humanity, but then in a nice twist, he pulls the rug out from under your expectations. A clever tale, but another without a connection to galactic empires. “Protected Species,” by H.B. Fyfe, is a dark tale of humans colonizing a mysterious planet full of ruins from a lost civilization. They display a callous disregard for the inhabitants, who may be an intelligent species. And then one of them meets a creature who delivers some devastating news, and everything becomes clear. This tale had at least a hint of lost empires to it. I was surprised to find that Michael Sharra, an author I associated with books about the American Civil War, was also a science fiction author. His contribution, “All the Way Back,” is a solid story, a tale of human explorers looking for habitable planets who encounter a warship from a multi-species civilization. Like the previous entries, it is built around a twist at the end, and was one of my favorite tales in the book. And then, before I read the next story, I ran into a subtitle: “Wider Still and Wider…” And I realized the tales were grouped by themes. I turned back to the introduction, and the organization of the anthology began to make sense. The first section is entitled “Rise and Shine,” and the first four stories came under the heading “A Sense of Perspective.” So, the stories that didn’t seem to fit were there to set the stage for what followed. The next section focused on the beginnings of empires, and “The Star Plunderer,” by Poul Anderson, quite squarely fits the bill, being the story of a prisoner who will become the first emperor of a resurgent human civilization. The story begins on an Earth falling to odious and uncivilized Gorzuni invaders. It is told from the perspective of John Reeves, a Solar Navy officer, who is captured along with his beloved fiancée, fellow officer Kathryn O’Donnell, and finds Manuel Argos, the future emperor, to be an odious companion, although also ruthlessly competent. The story is full of action and adventure in the best tradition of pulp science fiction, but like all of Anderson’s work, it rises above other pulp stories because of its connection to Anderson’s well-crafted future history, and because of Anderson’s ability to spin compelling tales that are often dark and full of emotion. Isaac Asimov’s “Foundation,” one of the short stories eventually stitched together to produce his Foundation Trilogy, is far from my favorite story in the anthology. While I enjoy many of Asimov’s shorter stories, and especially the humorous ones, his Foundation stories leave me cold. In this tale, the Galactic Empire is falling, and scientist Hari Seldon establishes a group on the planet Terminus whose job it is to compile a Galactic Encyclopedia. They are a clueless bunch, smugly ignoring the dangers posed by new political entities emerging around their planet. And they are sure that a time capsule from Seldon will tell them what to do, only to find that they have been serving a lie, and the work of decades is simply a ruse that is part of a larger plan. I found the characters unappealing, and disliked the idea of arrogant technocrats deceiving and manipulating the people they were supposed to serve. The story encapsulates the reason I disliked the Foundation Series, although I’ve always felt like I was in the minority with that opinion. The story “We’re Civilized!” by Mark Clifton and Alex Apostolides is another tale where arrogant humans expand into the galaxy only to get their comeuppance. It is a cleverly constructed story, if not especially deep. The next section of the anthology is “Maturity or Bust,” and the next subsection is “Horses in the Starship Hold,” which promises tales of pulp adventure—and they do not disappoint. Cordwainer Smith’s contribution to the anthology, “The Crime and Glory of Commander Suzdal,” is set in his baroque Instrumentality of Mankind universe, a darkly humorous setting full of animals uplifted to intelligence and enslaved by humans. An explorer, the eponymous Commander Suzdal, is duped by a colony of humans mutated by a hostile environment (and unfortunately, in keeping with the era when the story was written, their homosexuality is portrayed as part of the problem). His solution, to use time travel to populate a nearby planet with a new race of warrior cats in order to defeat the mutants, is laugh-out-loud funny, but gets Suzdal thrown into exile upon his return to civilization. Creating warrior cats who might eventually threaten human supremacy is not looked upon kindly. The best story in the anthology, and one of the best planetary romance tales I’ve ever read that wasn’t written by Leigh Brackett, is “The Rebel of Valkyr,” by Alfred Coppel. I’d never heard of him, but this tale is a gem. It is set in a galaxy where the old empire has fallen, and the secrets of its technology have been lost with it. But humans still travel the stars in spaceships now powered by magic, lit by oil lamps that replace the electric lights that no longer work, and equipped with stables to carry the horses that the cavalry troops use to wage war. The story is a straightforward tale of a struggle for succession after the death of the emperor, awash in greed, ambition, and corruption, and naturally features a noble warrior who allies himself with the true heir. There are swordfights, swashbuckling, reversals of fortune, romance, and adventures aplenty to keep the reader entertained. After I read it, I was pleased to learn that, writing under the pen name Robert Cham Gilman, the story was expanded into a series of four volumes, so I have some book-hunting to do. The story “Brightness Falls from the Air,” by Idris Seabright, is a bittersweet tale set in a decadent empire that entertains the populace with gladiatorial contests, often involving a race of bird people. The story follows a young man who falls in love with a female bird person, and ends with a heartbreaking conclusion. It is one of those stories that sticks with you long after it is over. Clifford Simak is one of my favorite authors, and I hadn’t run into his tale “Immigrant” before. It’s a good one, which follows an Earth man who is one of the elite few allowed to emigrate to the planet Kimon. What he finds there doesn’t fit his preconceived notions, and he is humbled by the planet’s gifted telepaths. But that humility allows him to discover why these aliens have allowed humans to settle on their planet, and the story ends on a hopeful note. The story is memorable, and infused with the whimsical sadness that makes Simak’s stories so compelling. The next subsection is “The Health Service in the Skies,” and starts with James White’s “Resident Physician,” a story set in his Sector General series, which follows doctors who treat aliens from a wide range of environments in a massive space-based hospital. In this one, the doctor in question must treat a sick alien who has apparently not only killed, but eaten, his shipmate. Along the way, he must puzzle out how this tragedy unfurled. The next story is a short one; “Age of Retirement,” by Hal Lynch, is intended to be humorous, but is so insubstantial, it doesn’t leave much of an impression. And its connection to the medical theme is peripheral at best. The last story, “Planting Time,” by Pete Adams and Charles Nightingale, is my least favorite story in the anthology, and its only connection to the medical theme is that sex can sometimes be considered a medical issue. A human explorer lands on a planet to replenish his supplies, finds an island full of nubile females lounging on couches, and wears himself out satisfying their desires. Upon discovering they were really flowers that attract the native humanoids to cross-pollenate themselves, instead of being embarrassed, he transplants the flora to another planet and establishes a plant-based bordello. From my perspective, the story had no redeeming qualities, and I felt like I needed to wash my mind out with soap after I finished. It definitely ended the volume on a sour note. Final Thoughts Even after I figured out how it was organized, I found Galactic Empires: Volume One to be loosely connected at best. But Aldiss had good taste—the diversity of the tales ended up being a strength, and the majority of the contents was entertaining. And some of the stories were outstanding, especially “The Rebel of Valkyr,” a delightful space-based fantasy full of the best kind of action and adventure. I definitely want to seek out Volume Two, as the anthology was worth reading. And now I turn the floor over to you, to hear your thoughts on Galactic Empires: Volume One, if you’ve read it, on the tales it contains if you’ve read them elsewhere, or on stories of galactic empires in general.[end-mark] The post A Quirky Mix of Tales: <i>Galactic Empires, Volume One</i>, Edited by Brian Aldiss appeared first on Reactor.

Movies & TV Widow’s Bay Widow’s Bay, Jaws, and the Terror of Municipal Monsters They’re here to serve their constituents at any cost By Matthew Byrd | Published on May 12, 2026 Credit: Apple TV Comment 0 Share New Share Credit: Apple TV In the second episode of Apple TV’s Widow’s Bay, Mayor Tom Loftis (Matthew Rhys) visits a coffee shop to try their new cappuccino machine. “That’s what Widow’s Bay should taste like,” he declares. The shop’s owner informs the mayor that he had to spend a lot of money on that new machine, and nobody is buying the coffee. Loftis reassures him that the tourists are coming and, when they get here, they’re going to want a cappuccino.  It’s a simple scene that probably doesn’t stand out among the episode’s other big moments (which include killer clowns, haunted hotels, and a terrifying fictional board game called “Daddy’s Home”). However, it tells us so much of what we need to know about Tom Loftis. He is the mayor of a small island town that is, at least according to many of its residents, deeply cursed. He is essentially in charge of a Stephen King story. And what is Mayor Loftis most concerned about? Asking the local café owner to buy a new coffee machine. Not for the locals, mind you, but for tourists who may come to this town for its antique charms. And not to bolster those antique charms but to offer tourists a cup of coffee they could get anywhere else. What Widow’s Bay “should” taste like. It’s that mentality that makes Mayor Loftis a true municipal monster: a public servant who harms their community not out of greed or hatred, but because they mistake personal ambitions and broad civic goals for the well-being of individuals. In fiction, the closest comparison to Mayor Loftis is Larry Vaughn, the mayor of Amity Island from Jaws. Jaws and its mayor were actually cited as major influences on Widow’s Bay. And as Jaws’ legacy has grown from “one of the first true modern blockbusters” to “one of the great American films,” Vaughn’s villain status has risen as well. Modern viewers are quick to point out that the film’s true villain is not a giant shark but this mayor who is determined to keep the beaches open no matter what even as the bodies pile up around him.  Credit: Universal Pictures More recently, Vaughn “enjoyed” a cultural resurgence when he became a reference for Americans’ growing frustration towards the Trump administration’s handling of the COVID-19 pandemic. As politicians raced to get businesses back open even as the death toll rose to historic levels, one couldn’t help but think about Mr. Vaughn in his cheap suits, insisting that everything was okay rather than risk losing a day of tourist dollars. “It’s a beautiful day, the beaches are open, and people are having a wonderful time.” But Trump and his ilk are not actually the closest comparisons to Mr. Vaughn. For that matter, neither are the countless evil corporate tycoons and billionaires in media (and in history) who are sometimes said to be cut from Vaughn’s cloth. Yes, everyone from Carter Burke in Aliens to John Hammond in Jurassic Park has demonstrated their willingness to put profits above people. However, that is far too simplistic of a characteristic to get to the heart of what makes the municipal monster an entirely different beast. Loftis and Vaughn are not C-suite executives being herded between galas and a penthouse. They are not faceless billionaires who long ago withdrew themselves from society. They are not even national political figures so far removed from the places that voted them into authority you begin to wonder whose interests they are representing.  No, these are two mayors who live in the communities they represent and are, at least sometimes, harming. They are entrenched in their towns in very public roles that prevent them from slipping by unnoticed. They theoretically had the choice between other career options that offered quicker paths to power, money, and the anonymity required to be driven by unchecked greed. Possible side hustles aside (Vaughn is definitely mixed up in real estate and has mob connections in Peter Benchley’s novel), they chose one of the humblest paths to influence: public service. With that choice came responsibilities and obligations. Yet, they not only do not shy away from those duties but sometimes seem genuinely interested in fulfilling them. And this is what separates the true municipal monsters from the rest of the villains. They leave us convinced that, in spite of everything, they are trying to do the right thing. Often, it’s because they are.  This isn’t a “the mayor from Jaws was right, actually” argument. However, we must acknowledge that Vaughn’s actions have a logic to them if to an extreme fault. Previously, one of his greatest responsibilities was undoubtedly keeping the tourist money rolling in. There’s a chance he was elected solely for that purpose. Yes, he should be more concerned with the people who are dying, but he has fallen deep down the rabbit hole of believing that treating a community as a whole, living thing and serving it is the same as serving the very real people who live there. When Mayor Vaughn is confronted with the undeniable consequences of his actions, he murmurs that he “was acting in the town’s best interests” and reminds Chief Brody that “my kids were on that beach too.” He cannot comprehend how far things have gone because he sincerely felt he was doing the right thing.  We already see a bit of that in Mayor Loftis. He is ultimately trying to get a little publicity for a town that lacks not just necessities but many modern conveniences. He is tired of living somewhere that has more urban legends than Wi-Fi hotspots. Yes, there is a strong argument to be made that he should not be the mayor of a town that he seems to resent. Yet, Loftis tells us that he also ran “unopposed” for the position. He alone assumed the thankless job of trying to get people to come to a town that many are desperate to leave because of a combination of curses, economics, and a simple lack of things to do after 7 p.m. It’s a job nobody wanted. To take it required a combination of hubris and ambition. A dangerous blend, maybe, but not an uncommon one. Many of our greatest civil servants believed they alone were capable of completing what many would consider to be a fool’s errand. You could argue that entering public service with the ambition to actually do your job fundamentally requires some version of that mentality. There is perhaps no better example of the potential and pitfalls of that mentality than one of history’s greatest municipal monsters: the urban planner Robert Moses. Strangely, you can draw some clean lines between fictional villains like Mayors Loftis and Vaughn and Robert Moses. Parks and Recreation was created by Michael Schur: a superfan of The Power Broker, the Pulitzer Prize-winning book that covered the life and works of Robert Moses. Schur actually saw Parks and Recreation protagonist Leslie Knope as a version of Robert Moses; he once cheekily described her as “Robert Moses, but good.” Widow’s Bay started as a spec script for Parks and Recreation written by Katie Dippold. Matthew Rhys was drawn to that project partially because of his love of Jaws and its mayor character and is also reportedly in talks to develop a Power Broker adaptation for Netflix. Trying to cover the extent of Moses’ influence here would be a futile effort. It is enough to say that Moses created many of the parks, roads, beaches, and institutions that make up modern New York City. He was behind Lincoln Center, the UN headquarters, Jones Beach, Shea Stadium, and helped organize two World’s Fairs. Few individuals in history have played more of a role in shaping something so substantial despite only holding civil service offices. In Moses’ case, he never even held a publicly elected position.  Today, though, Moses is more frequently spoken of as a kind of boogeyman. His urban renewal and slum clearance programs enforced or enacted generations of inequitable urban planning. His roads destroyed entire ways of life that have yet to return. His commitment to building around automobiles set public transportation back decades and, like many of his policies and projects, disproportionately affected lower-income citizens and minorities. Moses could certainly be unsentimental in his pursuit of a vision and the authority that came with completing it. He once said, “When you operate in an overbuilt metropolis, you have to hack your way with a meat axe.” The meat axe slasher sounds like the star of the cheapest direct-to-video horror movie you never saw rather than one of the most influential figures of the 20th century. But what makes Robert Moses and his ilk so compelling is that you cannot easily define him strictly by the good or bad. Why did a man with such a lust for power choose to dedicate his life to forms of civic duties? Were his accomplishments a simple means to an end during his rise to glory, or was there at least once a genuineness in the incredible effort he put into making the impossible a reality?  Most importantly, given that few built so many public works before Moses or since, how are we supposed to recognize “”Robert Moses, but good” when they come along when some of the things that seemingly make such people capable of greatness can also make them confuse what they want with what people really need? Municipal monsters live among us. They may yet do good through their positions, and they will never, ever see themselves as monsters. Put into their shoes, you too may have trouble figuring out where the progress begins and where the trampling ends. We will invite them into our homes again and again not just because we believe they will do good, but because they often are already our neighbors. Their proximity can make their actions so much more painful. But the fatal flaw of all municipal monsters is that they lose their ability to see a populace as a collection of people rather than as a canvas for their visions. That’s what journalist and activist Jane Jacobs (author of the revolutionary urban planning book The Death and Life of Great American Cities) accused Robert Moses of doing decades ago, and it remains the unifying principle of a very specific type of villain. Widow’s Bay does not need a cappuccino machine. At least not yet. It needs a mayor who will listen to the concerns of his constituents for longer than it takes to dismiss them, just as Amity Island needed a mayor who recognized that the broad, simplified needs of a town become irrelevant when its residents are terrified and dying. It needs a leader who recognizes that civil service is a lifetime pursuit and not a stepping stone, as Robert Moses sometimes seemingly believed. That town needs a man who understands that a community living in fear of what the night will bring cannot be quelled by the vague promise of a new day that is months or years away if it comes at all. The scary thing is that municipal monsters often look like such men. If not always through our eyes, then in what they see when they look into the mirror. When trying to prevent ourselves from continuing to be ruled over by them, we must accept the frightening possibility that one can become such a creature over time rather than being born as that. It’s frightening, but in the age of evil billionaires and tech bros who never had an ounce of humanity to betray, there is something so compelling about a villain who both genuinely seems to want a better world for us and yet somehow still sees us as hurdles between them and it. [end-mark] The post <i>Widow’s Bay</i>, <i>Jaws</i>, and the Terror of Municipal Monsters appeared first on Reactor.

News Sex Criminals Prime Video’s Sex Criminals Series Now Has Stars and a Director Have sex, stop time, do crimes. What’s not to love? By Molly Templeton | Published on May 12, 2026 Screenshot: Bleecker Street Comment 0 Share New Share Screenshot: Bleecker Street Earlier this year, Prime Video greenlit an eight-episode series adaptation of Sex Criminals, the comic series by Matt Fraction and Chip Zdarsky. The adaptation comes from the intriguing showrunning trio of Kumail Nanjiani (Little America), Emily V. Gordon (The Big Sick), and Tze Chun (Gotham). And they’ve been wasting no time getting this series up and running. In the past week, they’ve announced their stars and the director of the first two episodes. But first, the important bit: Sex Criminals is about people who stop time when they have sex. Then they do crimes. (As one does.) Prime’s logline says simply, “In Sex Criminals, Suze is a normal girl with an extraordinary ability: when she has sex, she stops time. One night, she meets Jon…who has the same gift. And so they do what any other sex-having, time-stopping couple would do: they rob banks.” Suze and Jon will be played by Imogen Poots and John Reynolds. (Nanjiani will also appear in the series, according to Deadline.) Poots’ two decades of work includes roles in 28 Days Later, Green Room, Roadies, and Outer Range, while Reynolds starred in the Four Weddings and a Funeral miniseries; Search Party; and—most importantly for some of us here at Reactor—the underseen Save Yourselves! (pictured above). He has also been on Stranger Things and Yellowjackets. This excellent cast will be guided, for its first two episodes, by Nia DaCosta, who at this point should need very little introduction. Most recently, she directed 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple, a movie about which I heard many complimentary and upsetting things, and Prime’s Hedda, starring Tessa Thompson (and also featuring Imogen Poots). She also directed both The Marvels and episodes of Ms. Marvel. With cast and director set, it shouldn’t be too terribly long before this series arrives. Just don’t confuse it with Prime’s other upcoming comic-adaptation series, Criminal.[end-mark] The post Prime Video’s <i>Sex Criminals</i> Series Now Has Stars and a Director appeared first on Reactor.

Books The Wheel of Time Reading The Wheel of Time: Rand Contemplates the Last Battle in The Gathering Storm (Part 25) Rand abandons Bandar Eban and heads to Tear… By Sylas K Barrett | Published on May 12, 2026 Comment 0 Share New Share It’s a short one this week on Reading The Wheel of Time, as we cover chapter 42 and muse about Rand’s current emotional state and how that might be affecting his success in Ebou Dar, and as the world’s most powerful ta’veren. Riding through the streets of Bandar Eban, Rand argues with Lews Therin about who is the author of the list of dead women, and discusses how they are fated to kill the ones they love over and over again. When Min hears Rand whispering, he pulls himself together, determined not to let anyone know how close he is to collapsing. Rand feels that he has failed in Arad Doman. The food he brought in attracted more refugees, straining supplies, and he has failed to find them a king and to make peace with the Seanchan. The Domani will see war and starvation… and Rand is leaving them behind. Somehow, the people realized that, and it was very hard for Rand to look at them. Their hungry eyes accused him: Why bring hope, then let it dry up, like a newly dug well during a drought? Why force us to accept you as our ruler, only to abandon us? Bashere reports that Lady Chadmar has been returned to her mansion, as have the other four members of the merchant council that Rand has been holding. Bashere suspects that they will ignore Rand’s orders to elect new council members and then choose a King, and instead will flee the city as soon as Rand and his Aiel guards are gone. Everyone knows the Seanchan are coming. Bashere also reports that Ituralde has been in some minor skirmishes with Trollocs along the Blight, but that it is clear that something is gathering; scouts have glimpsed forces strong enough to overrun Ituralde’s own. He suspects they are gathering at the Gap. Rand has Flinn and Naeff open a gateway, but before he can ride through, Iralin, one of the dockmasters, calls out to him. Iralin reports that every bit of food in storage and on the Sea Folk ships has spoiled. Apparently it happened in the blink of an eye. The food is rotten enough to make people sick if they eat it. As he desperately asks Rand what they will do, Rand turns and rides through the gateway, leaving the city to its fate. As he arrives in Tear, he sees that the city has turned out to greet him. When he notes that the citizens seem surprised to see him, Bashere reminds him that he has been away for a long time, and that there were no doubt rumors about his death or disappearance. Rand notes to himself that he has not seen Cadsuane or Nynaeve and wonders where both women are—though of course they won’t be together. Rand and Bashere discuss whether Ituralde will abandon the Blight when he hears that Rand has left Arad Doman, and how bad a situation it is to be going to war with the Seanchan danger unresolved. Rand’s next step is to seek out the Borderland army, to settle whatever issue they have and deal with the fact that they have abandoned their duty. Bashere cannot imagine what would have drawn the Borderland leaders away from their homes at a time like this. Entering the Stone, Rand is greeted by a group headed by King Darlin, Lord Dobraine, and the foolish Lord Weiramon. Rand is shocked when Lews Therin declares that he likes Weiramon, and that a man doesn’t choose to be an idiot but that he does choose to be loyal, as Weiramon has been. Rand decides not to argue with the madman. The rest of the High Lords and Ladies are also there, as is Alanna, who Rand avoids looking at. He feels her sorrow through the bond. Darlin has built the army Rand asked him for, but is surprised to learn that they are not going to Arad Doman. When he asks where they will be going again, Rand declares that Darlin’s forces will be coming with Rand to Shayol Ghul. Rand leaving Bandar Eban is absolutely tragic. I find myself going back and forth about how I feel about his decisions here. On the one hand, it is hard to say what Rand could be doing differently at this moment. He brought the grain to the city—demanding a good deal of risk and sacrifice from the Sea Folk to accomplish the feat—but even before the spoilage, those resources were proving to be insufficient to provide for all the people who needed aid. Rand attempted to find enough members of the merchants’ council to elect a new king, but was unsuccessful through no fault of his own—too many have disappeared or died. True, he could have appointed a king, but we haven’t really seen any prospects since he arrived in the capital of Arad Doman; unless someone came to him with desire and a plan for how they would rule, Rand would still have to stay to devote assistance and resources if any new ruler was going to be effective. Even with a king, even with food, it is clear that Arad Doman could never resist against the Seanchan invasion that appears to be imminent. Once Rand failed to secure a truce with the Seanchan, his choices seems to be to either leave Arad Doman to its fate, or to stay and protect it. Which is no choice at all. Rand’s resources, already spread thin, are not infinite.  Really, the greatest disservice he has done to Arad Doman is giving Ituralde resources in the form of Asha’man and then sending him to the Blight instead of to protect his people. I think Ituralde would have been able to lead as well as anyone else available; his love for his countrymen would have been apparent, boosting hope in the suffering people even if starvation and deprivation continued. Rand could have appointed Ituralde as some kind of regent, if he remained unwilling to be made King. Rand knew Arad Doman was suffering, and he had no guarantee that he was going to be able to make peace with the Seanchan. He took away the Domani’s best hope of survival, just because Rand is too suspicious to allow his followers to serve in their own homeland. Ituralde also believed that the Asha’man he had been provided with would be enough to stem the tide of Seanchan advancement into Arad Doman; instead the country has been left completely defenseless to the Seanchan, or to whoever else may show up to conquer or destroy them. Putting aside Rand’s previous actions and looking only at the position he has found himself in at the beginning of chapter 42, it is in fact not clear what else he can do for the people of Bandar Eban. Especially because he knows that the Last Battle is about to begin; if he fails to be ready for Tarmon Gai’don, nothing he does in Arad Doman will mean anything. There’s no point in saving people from starvation or Seanchan enslavement if they’re just going to get erased from existence two seconds later. I presume this is why he doesn’t at least consider bringing Ituralde back and letting him keep the Asha’man to protect Arad Doman. Rand is ready to ride to Shayol Ghul, and he is going to want to take every single black-coated man with him. It is also true that none of Rand’s advisors have offered him a solution to the problem of Bandar Eban. In fact, several of them have expressed the opinion that he should never have gone to Bandar Eban in the first place. I believe Cadsuane referred to it as “messing about” or some such similar phrase, though this was after her banishment so she never said it to Rand’s face. Rand himself only came to Bandar Eban because he was looking for Graendal; sending the grain to Arad Doman was an attempt to aid the country, but arriving in the capital was not about trying to conquer or restore leadership. It was just something he was doing on the side while he looked for Graendal; his intention was always to find the Forsaken, kill her, and move on. For better or for worse, he is sticking to his original plan,. In many ways, the people of Bandar Eban will be no worse off after his departure. However. It feels incredibly relevant that Rand’s first failure to leave a city he took over in better condition than that in which he found it only occurs after he reached this place of emotional hardness and deep despair. That it occurs at a time when he has cut himself off from every emotion, when he accepts himself as someone who causes only harm, and who is destined to be hated. That it occurs after he accepts himself as a killer, and has become one in truth, after his actions at Natrin’ Barrow. What have we become? Lews Therin whispered. We’re going to do it again, aren’t we? Kill them all. Everyone we’ve loved. Again, again, again…“Again and again,” Rand whispered. “It doesn’t matter, as long as the world survives. They cursed me before, swore at Dragonmount and by my name, but they lived. We’re here, ready to fight. Again and again. When Rand says that “it doesn’t matter,” that he is going to kill everyone he loves, I think this is an attempt to dismiss his own feelings, not necessarily to say that other people’s lives don’t have any relevance, or even that there is no amorality in being a killer as long as you win the Last Battle. However, nitpicking over exactly what “it doesn’t matter” means doesn’t change the fact that Rand being dismissive of deaths, and of his part in deaths, is a very dangerous place for him to be. Psychology tells us that our perception affects our reality, and that what we focus on and give our energy to is what comes to pass. This is why exercises like vision boards, manifestation, and The Secret work; it isn’t magic or telekinesis, but the result of pouring one’s energy in a certain direction. The more we focus on despair and defeat, the more despairing and defeated we feel. The more we spend time thinking about our goals, the more likely we are to come up with concrete actions that help us achieve them. If Rand decides that he doesn’t care that he causes death, then he will continue to see killing as an acceptable means to achieve his ends, just as he did at Natrin’s Barrow. One can debate, I think, whether the deaths of Graendal’s prisoners were mercy or not, and whether Rand had a moral duty to stay in Bandar Eban even though he knows he must soon ride to the Last Battle without finding an obvious and clear conclusion. There are points to be made on both sides—points of morality, practicality, or both. It is Rand’s perspective that is utterly flawed, utterly broken, and that is going to be a problem everywhere he goes. He looks for darkness, and he finds darkness. He lists his failures and perceived crimes in his own head, ad nauseam, and so he believes himself a monster. He believes that Min fears him now, and so he sees fear in her actions. I could keep listing examples, but the crux of the matter is that if Rand can get to a point where he thinks huge numbers of deaths don’t matter as long as the world survives the Last Battle, then there is no reason to think he won’t eventually reach a point where he decides that saving the world doesn’t matter, either. A point where he no longer sees anything in the world worth saving—no beauty, no hope, no lives that matter. This is a terrible, terrible danger, one that not only risks Rand being unable to stop the Dark One from destroying the world, but that he may actually become the destroyer of the world himself, as I posited in my recent essay. But to bring us back to the moment at hand, I think it’s also worth noting that Rand is not an ordinary person. For him, manifestation might actually be magic, so to speak; his mood and feelings might directly affect how his ta’veren powers manifest. I strongly suspect that the grain spoiled not because of the random effects that are touching the world, like people turning into bugs and food, but because of Rand’s particular presence in Bandar Eban. What a beautifully tragic piece of symbolism it is to see the grain that Rand worked so hard to get to Ebou Dar spoil at the very moment he was abandoning the city. Rand’s relationship with Lews Therin is also changing. They are both starting to refer to themselves as “we” whenever they are in agreement on something, each accepting the other as a presence in a shared mind. When they disagree, the argument is no longer which of them is a madman in the other’s head, but rather, a debate about which thoughts and actions belong to which personality. We see this in Lews Therin’s insistence that he begin the list of dead women. We also see him accepting Rand’s actions at Natrin’s Barrow as being Lews Therin’s actions as well. It’s hard to say what this blurring means, whether it’s a sign of increasing madness in Rand or merely another way in which he has decided to just accept situations he feels he cannot change, but either way it feels like it will be significant in Rand’s journey towards fighting the Last Battle. Rand is apparently planning to ride to that battle now, and I’m curious about that decision, given how there are still two more books after this one. Will the Last Battle span two whole novels? What will that look like, and how much of that fight will actually be regular open warfare? We also see in this chapter that Rand is aware that he is very close to collapsing. If there are still two books worth of trials and tribulations to go, it’s hard to imagine him making it through all that without some kind of change to his situation. I wonder if perhaps there is some kind of climax coming, in which Rand confronts his despair and finds some kind of hope. Perhaps Cadsuane’s plan is going to work? Or perhaps Aviendha will return and help him, along with Min, to accept love and support? Time will tell, I suppose. I am very anxious about Lan, given Ituralde’s reports about what is going on in the Blight. I’m wondering if a conflict at the Gap might kick off Towers of Midnight. The way that fight has been alluded to has me thinking a lot about the Battle of Helm’s Deep and the way the Rohirim stood alone, almost certain they would be overrun, only to have help arrive at the very last moment. Will Lan also look up to a ridge and find that Rand has come to reinforce him after all? I can’t lie, I would absolutely love that. Oh! And of course part of Towers of Midnight will be the rescue of Moiraine, so it’s not all going to be Tarmon Gai’don stuff. I can’t believe I forgot about that. Next week we’ll be covering 43 and 44, which will cover Egwene’s return to the rebel camp and some very interesting points of order, then come back to Rand so he and Nynaeve can talk about the Gap and where Perrin might be located. Fun stuff! I’m always and forever happy to have a Nynaeve chapter.[end-mark] The post Reading The Wheel of Time: Rand Contemplates the Last Battle in <i>The Gathering Storm</i> (Part 25) appeared first on Reactor.

Books publishing news Announcing The Architect to Elsewhere by Charlene Challenger A poignant, cozy story about life and death By Reactor | Published on May 12, 2026 Photo courtesy of Charlene Challenger Comment 0 Share New Share Photo courtesy of Charlene Challenger We’re thrilled to announce the acquisition of The Architect to Elsewhere by Charlene Challenger. Sold to Diana M. Pho at Erewhon Books in a two book deal, for publication in 2028 by Kelvin Kong at K2Literary for World Rights. The Architect to Elsewhere will be available in 2028 from Erewhon Books, and imprint of Kensington Publishing. Dorothy’s life is tiny by design. She loves music and art, dancing and drinking, cats, and caring for the elderly. She wanted to be an actress. Her Maltese parents are jerks. She has never been in love and doesn’t care to be. And, she’s just dropped dead on her kitchen floor.Dorothy now faces the last precious moments of her earthly existence, but she’s not alone; Archie, a divine architect who may or may not also be a porcupine, is along for the ride. Archie’s purpose is to help Dorothy create the afterlife of her dreams. She just has to examine the last forty-eight years of her life with all that’s happened and not happened, to figure out what that means.A poignant, cozy story told from a unique perspective, The Architect to Elsewhere is an affirmation of the highs and lows of life, and living. From author Charlene Challenger: “It is an honor and a privilege to be teaming up with the fine folks at Erewhon Books and sharing my novel, The Architect to Elsewhere, with readers in 2028. This novel is, in part, a reclamation of my Maltese heritage, which was obscured for me for many years. It is also an exploration of the very last and most intimate moment of life, one I feel should be approached with humor, reverence, and joy. Having spent many years telling tales on stages and spinning yarns on pages, it’s my hope that readers will see themselves between the lines of my first adult novel!” From Diana M. Pho, Editorial Director of Erewhon Books: “I never expected to feel transformed by a talking porcupine, but that’s the experience reading The Architect to Elsewhere! This poignant novel is It’s a Wonderful Life for today: by turns whimsical and somber, funny and philosophical, and at the end, truly wise. Dorothy and Archie’s final journey explores nuances of faith, regret, family, hope, and how even the most middling life contains ripples of meaning. Delighted to work with Charlene and bring this book to readers in 2028.” Charlene Challenger is a writer and graduate of Toronto Metropolitan University’s Acting Program. Her first novel, the young adult fantasy The Voices in Between, was nominated for the 2015 Aurora Award for Best Young Adult Novel and long listed for the Sunburst Award Young Adult Novel category. Its sequel, The Myth in Distance, was published in 2016. She lives in Cambridge, Ontario, Canada. Learn more on her website. The post Announcing <i>The Architect to Elsewhere</i> by Charlene Challenger appeared first on Reactor.