LIFE-LINE

Two male lovers fight for survival in a spacegoing future in which a nasty dictator oppresses and tortures gay men while secretly planning to exploit their psychic interconnections for galactic conquest.

Debut author Miller begins an SF series that’s waist-deep in the swashbuckling, space opera aesthetic. The saga is set in a far future in which humanity is spread across three galaxies. Yet instead of reaching pinnacles of achievement, much of humankind has become disconnected, forgetting Earth altogether and even falling backward instead of progressing. Such is especially the case for star systems dominated by the Senate, a vicious, reactionary dictatorship under usurper Alarius Kruger II, alias the Magistrate. Among his depredations: the systematic persecution and imprisonment of “sodbents,” gay men. It seems that gay Homo sapiens have evolved (or been somehow engineered) with psychic traits of ESP communication and mind control that transcend space and time. Committed “soulmate” men in relationships develop even deeper thought bonds, the fabled “Life-Lines” (and they make orgasms incredible). While publicly denouncing gays as “degens” and incarcerating them, the paranoid and megalomaniacal Magistrate insidiously seeks to exploit these psi superpowers inherent in the galaxy’s gays to rule the cosmos. Leading the resistance are a colorful space pirate named Farthing, a big, tough GMO supersoldier who rebelled (and is a “gentle giant” in bed); a witchlike but benevolent sisterhood called the Sirens; and Life-Line lovers Tam and Brogan. Light-years across the galaxy, in another long-lost segment of humanity vying to reunite the race, a gay man named Bennett detects Tam’s thoughts. Bennett, astounded by the youth’s latent psychic talents, also starts to play a part in the striking intrigues—which are, by the way, bereft of aliens here, gay or straight. The intriguing material sometimes walks a thin line between golden age SF sincerity and camp (especially the part about booby-trap bombs implanted in manly buttocks) but somehow never fully descends into self-parody, Rocky Horror Show–esque ridiculousness, and that is a bit of a feat. SF from a queer vantage point is rare, and while this action tale may skew nearer to Flash Gordon (or Barbarella) than Samuel R. Delany’s characters, the out-of-the-closet voice is a refreshing genre change of pace.

Queer Eye for star guys; an engaging throwback SF adventure with a strong gay affirmation.