Wamuhu Mwaura

dolorous, again unmoored, I gravity sling around sol tethered spheres, captivated by that sort of atomic codependence. the Fortunate Isles still light years away, I come across a capsized destroyer floating listlessly on its sapping side. the debris that surrounds its torn-open hull tells tale of Punic faith. I wonder, did Helen or Jezebel or Mami Wata run you aground?

The longlist for this year’s International Booker Prize is salutary for a number of reasons, not least for Strange Horizons readers the presence of so much speculative fiction across its titles—so many, in fact that we've easily filled an entire week of reviews with titles taken from it.

There are things the Old Woman can do, say, and think that the Woman cannot do, say, or think. (Le Guin, Space Crone). On the day Naomi Nagata planned to retire with her partner James Holden, a new authoritarian dictatorship rolled into the ring space. With one firing of a single devastating weapon, they claimed control of the vast sweep of space colonised by humanity.