Vanishing Point #1: An Anthology Series Starts Strong

Sometimes less is more. In an anthology series, the limited space to tell a story–whether over a few issues or in just one–forces the creative team to pack a lot of narrative, character development, and generalized drama or comedy into a small space. Vanishing Point #1, the first issue of a new science fiction anthology series, is an excellent example of how a short story can be stronger than a long one.

Ten years of asteroid mining could set Jim and his family up with serious money. The payout is only available if Jim hits his quota or fulfills all ten years. He’ll be all alone on a ship during those ten years. There have been many miners before Jim, and not all of them have returned. As the years pass in Vanishing Point #1, Jim worries that this might happen to him.

Vanishing Point #1’s first three pages set up a very familiar science fiction concept. By the fourth page it seems obvious what will happen: Jim will either go mad from loneliness or fall victim to some kind of technical or medical danger that he can’t fix on his own. That’s how most of these stories go, after all–simply being alone is the biggest problem. There is even a sequence early on that seems to play into that story type.

Intentionally or not, a reader’s expectation for what this story will be is perfect misdirection. What Jim encounters is surprising and unexpected, and it’s this discovery that really serves as the beginning of Vanishing Point #1’s story.

Russell tells a deeply human story. It comes out of nowhere. Jim’s internal monologue reveals that humans are still better than AI at finding the best asteroids to mine. As Jim continues to describe what is going on in the asteroid belt, it’s possible to deduce where the story is going next. It’s not isolation that Jim is dealing with, but a kind of overwhelming community. This is where the story’s power lies.

The coloring in Vanishing Point #1 is immediately striking in how soft it is. That isn’t to say that the color palette is limited. Space in particular is varied in color and features strong contrasts between the surrounding blackness and the asteroids, planet, and general background colors. A similar contrast frequently takes place inside Jim’s ship. Even when he is in his blue uniform set against the blue surroundings, Jim stands out thanks to the uniform’s darker tones.

Doe’s art doesn’t rely on heavy linework in most cases to add detail. The interior of Jim’s ship is somewhat basic in appearance, its backgrounds streamlined. Jim similarly lacks excess detail. A couple lines here and there establish the edges of cheekbones and jawline. To add weight to Jim’s expressed emotions, a few short and close together lines effectively add shading.

The limited detail on Jim and his ship’s interior stands in contrast to the exterior settings. Doe’s linework is comparatively heavy on the asteroids and other space features. Jim’s ship’s exterior, though, is as streamlined as its interior. Space in Vanishing Point #1 comes across as more harsh and more intense.

Mangual keeps dialogue and Jim’s interior monologue very well organized in multiple text heavy sequences. What stands out most, though, is the expression of some very disturbing sound effects as the issue goes on. Indeed, Russell’s story might not be as effective without Mangual’s work on these sound effects.