Science fictional comics! Those are always a wonderful three words to hear in sequence, and “Mother and Son” #1, the opening to a five-part miniseries published by GrayHaven, sure does them justice. Incorporating not one, but several science fictional concepts, and anchoring them all with an unconventional heroine and her yet more unconventional sidekick, this first issue delivers the speculative, high-concept goods while still maintaining a believable emotional centre. And really, what more does a good science fictional comic need?
Written by Erica J. Heflin
Illustrated by Elias MartinsFive-hundred years ago the sun was devoured and replaced by an unimaginable force of destruction known as Sol. Unknown to the world at large, it continues working to destroy all meat-based life on Earth. Now a group of humans have been abducted and changed into soldiers against this force. One of these soldiers, Ainsley, and the alien life-form implanted in her womb, dubbed “Son” hunt the humans who’ve been transformed by Sol’s Bloom.
This series centers on an intriguing anti-heroine, Ainsley, whose condition is set out for you pretty plainly on the cover. She’s carrying a baby, but it’s no ordinary baby. For one, the two can converse telepathically. For another, the being, which she calls “Son”, seems to have been implanted by a secret organization of some kind, an organization which required Ainsley to give up her old life when she joined them.
It’s a high concept that could easily have edged into cheese territory, but as Ainsley makes her way through this story, hunting down a group of people who have a contracted a mysterious plague, she comes through as one interesting — and quietly terrifying — character. While she seems to share a real and humane bond with her “son”, she calmly commits some shocking and brutal acts in her attempts to sequester the plague. And while you do get the feeling that’s it’s all in service to some greater good, Ainsley’s terseness and iciness in casual conversations makes it clear that Heflin doesn’t want us feeling too close to this character — or at least, not yet.
A flashback scene detailing the origins of the plague, meanwhile, it a bit of a puzzler, but sets up some questions nicely and casts a wonderful feeling of doom over the proceedings. It turns out that what gives life to this planet is also doing its fair share of harm, and in a far more unusual way than you might think. It’s an original idea that’s being given plenty of room to breathe, and it’ll certainly be interesting to see how it plays out.
Elias Martins’ art is strong and unconventional, excelling at dynamic and highly distorted camera angles and keeping the facial expressions clear and compelling. There is an overall loose, “indie” feel for sure, but some very precise shadows and energetic hatching keep the material engaging. The best moments are probably in a student apartment at the end of the issue, with Martins showing a great feeling for background detail that, as it happens, underscores the brutality of one of Ainsley’s acts by keeping us constantly aware of their likely ripple effect and consequences. A conventional moral centre is certainly not something we’re supposed to attribute to Ainsley’s character, but you’ve got to admit it’s kind of neat to see this aspect of her existence underscored by the environment.
Diana Martinez’s colours keep the mood bleak, deftly getting across the muted atmosphere of dark winter days with all the right blues and browns and greys. The speech bubbles that set out the Son’s thoughts, meanwhile, are blazing, acid green, hinting at information which the solicit gives us but which is not exposed entirely over the course of the issue.
The issue ends a little suddenly, and does, for a moment, up the cheese factor, but if we know this heroine — and I think, by the end of this issue, we know her just well enough — then we do have a clue as to how this new element is going to be resolved, and it ain’t pretty. Meanwhile, there are plenty of questions up in the air that are bound to have some dizzying answers in future issues. As a whole, this is one refreshing take on the science fictional genre for being such a quiet, terse and subtly emotional one — and those high-flung concepts standing at its centre certainly don’t hurt.
Final Verdict: 8.3 — Buy
